Anathema
by HuntressoftheLight
Summary: Gwendolyn Cousland isn't the picture perfect hero that most people think of. Growing up she was never loved, in turn this created a woman incapable of empathy. She is just as vulnerable and sick as the next. Suddenly her life takes a drastic turn, and she's given a chance, but at a cost. A secret surrounds her that could change the course of history, a secret that she doesn't know.
1. Chapter 1: Blood Child

**A/N: I've put a lot of thought into this character and her story, this chapter is about who she is and how she grew up. I wanted to make a character that was different from the standard. Most people write about their beautiful charming lovely blah blah blah characters. But we all know that people are not like that. People are sometimes cruel, ugly, or dumb. And that's all that main characters are: People. My character is a person, just as vulnerable and sick as the next.**

Chapter 1: Blood Child

Gwendolyn's sister and brother were the absolute picture of perfect. They were beautiful, kind, smart, witty, brave, the list goes on and on. Gwendolyn was not pretty or smart, or any of those things. She was nothing. In their shadow Gwendolyn was raised. They would always be better, more important then her. Every man she met would fall for her sister, and every care and expense was taken for her brother's education. Every dress, piece of jewelery, lesson, and even the very food she ate every day, was a gift from her parents. They told her to be grateful and to never defy them.

After all, it was her sister Elissa's job to continue on the family legacy, and her older brother Fergus's job to inherit and rule Highever. Little unimportant Gwen had no dignified duty to her family.

At her parents request she started memorizing the Chant from the moment she learned to read and write. In the mornings she would be woken earlier than all the other family members by one of the Chantry sisters to commence her daily prayers and recitations of the Chant. As a child Gwen didn't understand the meaning of the Maker or his influences, but simply followed her parents orders least she face their wrath.

While she learned the Chant, Fergus learned the beginnings of sword play, and Elissa the basics of grace and poise. They were all still children, but their parents had already chosen their roles for them, grooming them exactly to their standards.

Elissa and Gwendolyn were twins, not identical in anyway, but they came out of the womb at relatively the same time, Elissa obviously being the older one. With Elissa's blonde hair and enchanting laugh, their parents instantly fell in love with her, casting aside Gwen who had a very pale sickly face, light brown hair, and lifeless gray eyes.

Despite her lonely circumstance, Gwen was a happy child. She played often in the Chantry gardens, admiring its beauty and calmness. Sometimes, without their parents knowledge of course, Fergus would teach her his swordplay, the two would spar in the castle training grounds.

She made many friends among the servants, helping out in the kitchen before dinner. She was a curious spirit, like most children should be, which amused some of the older servants as she would find the most simple things amazing. The staff eventually came to adore her.

The relationship between Elissa and Gwen on the other hand, was strained. There was a constant pressure from their parents that they do not stay in the same place for very long, or have many interactions at all. Their schedules were arranged to be opposites, so they often only saw each other in passing glances, or when eating dinner together.

As the years of childhood innocence passed, so did Gwendolyn's circumstances and personality. She was no longer a happy little girl, but a bitter and lonely teenager. The servants that used to adore her started to avoid her, it was said she brought bad luck.

By the time they had both reached maturity Elissa looked ages older, with her beautiful long blonde hair and a curvacious body. Gwendolyn had a very plain face with pale boring features; a big nose, nails that never grew in right, and a skinny, flat, boyish body.

In the eyes of her parents, Bryce and Eleanor Cousland, she could only benefit them by establishing an alliance by marriage or by making the Cousland family look pious and holy. She was told that when she grew into her womanhood, she would have only two options. If she was not engaged by her 21st birthday, she must give herself to the Chantry. She was hardly attractive enough to gain the attention of a man, even less so a potential suitor from a different noble house. Her parents were aware of this, and simply offered the other option as a reminder that the Chantry was truly her only option.

Her brother Fergus had some sympathy for her position, so he was gentle to her. He never made light of her, and in the darkest times for her he would lend a listening ear. Elissa was not a horrible sister, but the simple fact that Elissa was better than her in every way was enough to inspire distance between the two. But her parents... it felt as though her parents hated her sometimes, like she was some wretched thing to be tossed.

She had many more freedoms than her sister and brother in that she didn't have to attend court, or worry about what each and every noble thought about her. No one paid much attention to her, which gave her plenty of time to do what she liked. Yet, her siblings had what she craved even more than freedom: Love. To be loved by her parents. By anyone.

Men, she would often scoff, are all the same. On occasion Gwen would find herself developing a crush, on a servant boy, or perhaps a visiting noble's son, it didn't matter who, it always ended the same way. Some used her to get closer to Elissa, others completely ignored her, then there were that special few that ripped her heart out and crushed it. That special few being Nathaniel Howe.

Gwen had fallen in love with Nathaniel at age 16. They had been playmates as children, and even friends whenever it was convenient for him. She swooned about him in secret, until the devastating day that he discovered her feelings. Gwen had made the mistake of forgetting to lock the drawer to her hidden love letters. The moment that Elissa had discovered those letters, she told Nathaniel and he gagged. The sheer thought of romancing Gwendolyn was enough to make him puke. And of course there was another problem, he was utterly in love with Elissa.

Gwen never held resentment for her past crushes that went to Elissa, but this...this she would hold in her heart for a very long time. Burrowing the anger deep inside.

Trust did not come easy to Gwen, having been manipulated more than she'd like to admit in the past few years. She was suspicious of others' motives, but in any situation, she would try to take control and try to benefit herself. For she was the only one who looked out for her.

She grew up a neglected lady, taught all the proper greetings, how to be civil and all that, but she lacked the fundamental core of being loved. In turned that created a woman incapable of empathy.

The hate and resentment that built up so quickly inside her everyday demanded an outlet. Starting not long after her heart brake from Nathaniel, a few nights out of every week she would steal away into the nearby woods with a dagger or sword in hand. Slashing at every living thing in sight. Little woodland animals would lay dead at her feet. On the days that she felt most violent she would stalk dear or even moose. She didn't do this because she enjoyed it, she did it out of necessity, or else she would surely have murdered a person.

She would sneak back home through the servants quarter's, clothes stained with the blood of her animal victims.

Only a few servants knew of this habit, they called her the Blood Child, but they did not dare speak up against her. Although her parents did not care much for her well-being, they cared about dark rumors that would plague the family name, and would do almost anything to prevent them.

On restless nights that she couldn't sleep, she would sneak through the castle grounds at night, exploring like she used to when she was a child. She found many hidden passageways as well as good hiding spots. Should the need arise, she made mental notes each time she found something.

At 18 years of age she witnessed the public execution of a murderer. She saw the axe come down with the force of a falling tree, severing the man's head in two. Blood gushed everywhere, spraying her and others that were nearest. She so desperately wanted to feel _something_ when she saw others suffering, but she could not. All she could do was stare blankly into their lifeless eyes. She often pondered why this was, perhaps killing so many animals made her immune to such things. But humans were not animals, or were they?

Years pass, a few weeks after her 20th birthday she rides to the village Chantry by horseback in the wee hours of the morning. Her purpose is deadly and sinful but she does not care. She plans to die in the Maker's house of worship, and hope that he will see her tormented soul and grant her forgiveness.

Gwen opened the large decorated wooden doors with a grave face. In a dream like trance she suddenly found herself at the front of the room, kneeling in before the golden statue of Andraste. Her tears flowed from her body, extinguishing the nearby candles and filling her lungs with smoke.

Suddenly, a large but warm hand was placed on her shoulder. It spoke of comfort and understanding. Things that Gwen no longer recognized in herself. She did not move at first, simply hearing the figure steadily beathe.

Without looking at the person she asked, "Why are you here?" It was too early for any reasonable person to be awake, so why was this person here right now?

A deep vibrant male voice answered in return, "I'm not sure, but I awoke from a disturbing dream and felt the need to come here and pray for answers. Then, I saw you. I could hear you crying, and saw the candles go out. My conscious feels for you and wonders: what could make you feel this way, that you'd cry so profusely?"

"Why has the Maker decided our fates to be so, that you'd find me here in this state? I am gone, far too gone to be saved. My fate has been chosen for me, something I cannot stand. I will take my fate into my own hands and have control over my own end." There was a long pondering silence before it was broken once again.

"The dream I had, it was of a young girl, barely starting the prime of her adult youth. Her dead body lay cold in front of this Chantry. I came upon this scene powerless to stop it, the horror that filled me jolted me from my sleep."

"Do you believe this girl to be me? Is that why you are here? If so then leave, the Maker had already chosen my fate when I was born into that family. It cannot be changed by you or me." The words seemed to turn to ash in her mouth.

"Perhaps His plan was betrayed by others, that this is not your end. That must be why I had the dream, so that I would come here and guide you back onto His divine plan. This life is not yet done for you. If fate is to truly be in your own hands, then at least let it be guided by a divine hand. Then you will find true happiness, not this life that you now lead. If you'd only believe it was possible. I am confident that it will change for you, if you'd only have faith...and smile." He said his piece and removed his hand, leaving her missing the comfort of another being.

This mysterious man had come here to save _her_. If the Maker truly had not forsaken her, then there was still some hope left for her, "I believe you." She turned to meet her savior but he was already gone, leaving her to wonder if he was ever really there at all.

She looked up to the statue once more, but in a different light, "Thank you," she said to no one in particular, but her life had been saved that day. That was all that mattered.

She had a purpose now, even if she didn't know it yet. She would wait patiently for the Maker to send her a sign of what would lead her to a better life, one that was not full of neglect and hate.


	2. Chapter 2: A Suitor's Dance

**A/N: This is a longer chapter but I felt as though I couldn't split it up. Enjoy! :)**

Chapter 2: A Suitor's Dance

It had been a year since that day in the Chantry, and in that time she had completely stopped going to the forest at night. For she had no need. The anger had been washed away and she was calm. Calmer than she had even been before. This was because she had the knowledge that things would get better. In a sort of way, she had become an optimist. Whether this new-found peace would last remained to be seen, but Gwen enjoyed it while she had it. Something she'd thought she lost.

Although the date of her 21st Naming day was coming soon she didn't worry. She had faith in the Maker and would wait.

The sign that Gwen believed she had been waiting for arrived on the day of the ball. A dance that was hosted in honor of Elissa's coming Naming day, and to introduce her into adult society. Which meant suitors...lots and lots of suitors.

Gwendoyln only barely managed to convince her mother to let her attend. she played on the fact that her mother thought she was unappealing; she told her mother that no man there would give her the time of the day. Eleanor accepted this but still insisted that she wear a dress of her choosing. Which meant something very plain to make the already plain Gwendoyln invisible.

Gwen had sighed, disappointed, when she laid eyes on her dress for the night. She had wished it would be at least a little more...not boring. It was a simple dark green dress, with laced threads on the back. The dress didn't fake her figure, many nobles had dresses designed for that, it showed exactly what she didn't have. She wondered what Elissa's dress looked like. Probably purple or blue, with elaborate lace and gold accessories. Elissa didn't need a specially modified dress, she could fill it out fine by herself. Gwendoyln couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment spring up at the thought.

The ball was grand, grander then Gwen had ever seen. No expense would be left out for her dear sister Elissa. Every hall was adorned with gold and blue, the classic Cousland colors. There was music and refreshments in all the rooms, with guards of course. Thieves would not be tolerated.

Gwen easily slid past all the dancing men and woman, to stand by the symphony. She watched as the musicians focused intently on the papers in front of them, making all the notes sing with emotion.

Time sped by quickly as Gwen observed the scene that was laid before her. Occasionally her sister would pass by, in all her golden grace, with a plethora of suitors trailing behind. They practically trampled over one another to get a chance at asking her for a dance.

Gwendolyn scoffed, they must be enjoying their night, gaining the chance to watch her sister's bodice sway in rhythm.

"And who might this shy but proud woman be?" A young man approached her, making her nearly spill her drink. Although he wasn't a handsome dashing fellow like the men following Elissa, she was still shocked. A man was talking to her, a well dressed man at that! Her suspicious instincts kicked in, what did he want from her?

"Gwendoyln," she said quietly, "Cousland," she had almost forgotten to say her last name; the formalities of court escaping her.

"Ah. Lady Elissa is your sister is she not? Hmm, it must be insulting that all of this is in her honor. One would think that you'd refuse to attend. And yet here you are...talking to me. I must be very lucky indeed...to ask for a dance," He held out his hand which she took hesitantly.

"But why ask me for a dance, when there is a perfectly beautiful woman over there?" She gestured over to Elissa and her pack of suitors.

He swept her into a spin, drawing her attention away from her glittering sister, "I see no other woman. What is this other woman that you speak of?"

She laughed genuinely. He was charming, she'd give him that.

They danced to the up beat music playful music, Gwen following his lead. She wasn't much of a dancer but she knew the basics.

"What do you think of the music tonight?" Gwen asked, starting up a conversation.

"I think it is quite lovely, the musicians are dedicated to giving us their best tonight. What do you think?"

He asked her for her opinion, something very rare. No man every cared to ask her what she thought, they usually liked to talk about themselves. She became lost in thought looking and studying his face, she forgot to answer his question.

"My lady?" He asked, bringing her out of her trance.

"Oh? Oh yes. The music! I love it. Music brings out what we cannot say with words, its another language entirely, one that everyone can understand."

He seemed intrigued by her answer, "You've thought a lot about this then?"

"I've had the time to I suppose," she said awkwardly.

"Well I think its lovely that you take the time to ponder such things."

"You find a lot of things lovely," She said, pointing out his repetition of the word.

He reddened slightly, "Maybe a change of topic? Since you think so much here's a real question: _Why_ do the nobles dress themselves up so ridiculously? All this," He made a gesture to symbolize the poofyness of a woman's dress, "extra fabric, gold, velvet. It must way them down. I'm always amazed at their will to continue dancing and walking when they feel like collapsing."

"Actually," Gwen comically started, "There's a string attached to their back, connected to the high expectations of their parents."

"Ah," He nodded in agreement with a humorous undertone, "That must be it!"

Gwen was the first to laugh, her smile broke out on her face like the sun breaks the horizon in the morning. It made an astounding difference in her mood. The difference between night and day.

This man had changed her night for the better she decided. He seemed like good company to keep, and suddenly thoughts dropped in her desperate mind.

What if...? But no... What could he possibly see in her? She brushed these thoughts to the back of her mind, still acutely aware of their existence.

"That's why I was drawn to you," He blushed and his voice became softer in a way that only meant an honest confession.

"M-me?" She stuttered. _Maker why am I so bad with people?_ She thought.

"Your dress. It's simple, but it fits you. You seem...what's the word..." he took a breath, deeply considering his diction, "r _eal_. I'm not terribly interested in politics. But I know it is necessary. My mother and father wish for me to marry soon," Her heart jumped, no, leaped out of her chest, "I will do as they ask as I always have. But I want to marry someone I can lean on, and a cunning socialite is not what I have in mind for a wife. You are no socialite. I can tell you are you, and I like that...very much."

It seemed that the very thing she wished for differently is what brought him to her. How ironic, she thought.

At the same time more important thoughts took place. Is this a sign from the Maker? Is this what he had planned for her destiny? She wished she could be sure, but she couldn't take the chance. He seemed like a decent person, and the _only_ man that ever had expressed a true interest in her.

He took her silence as another opportunity to speak, "I'd like to invite you my holdings, come back with me tonight to my family's estate and we'll offer you our best hospitality. In the morning we can have tea with my parents in the study, and breakfast after wards." He became excited, discussing future plans. But he was moving along so fast it scared Gwendolyn.

Then she chided herself. Of course he'd want her to meet his parents! That always comes first in these kinds of things...doesn't it? She second guessed herself. The formalities of a proposal were not a topic she often studied. She mentally shook her head, she'd just leave him to the details.

"That sounds wonderful." She smiled gently, reassuring his pride, for she had left him hanging for quite some time.

"Perfect!" He let go of their dancing embrace to clap his hands in content, "I'll send a letter to the footman to let-"

Suddenly a horrible thought came to Gwen, what if her parents tried to stop it? "That!" she burst out, "wont be necessary."

"As you wish...my lady" he bowed his head and smiled up at her. She couldn't help but feel giddy. This was her chance at freedom! She'd marry him and leave this awful place behind! And yet there was one detail that they both seemed to have forgotten.

"Oh! I haven't even asked your name!"

"Garrick. Garrick Wulff."

The rest of the night they spent in each other's company, talking playfully and getting to know one another. Fortunately they hadn't seen Elissa or her mother, which meant that they couldn't interfere.

Gwendolyn assumed that Elissa was too busy trying to walk around with her mass of potential suitors, and her mother buttering up those suitors' families.

At the end of the long, fancy, and expensive party Gwen "escaped" into Garrick's carriage and they began their travel to West Hills.

 _IXI_

The West Hills region was warm and thick with humidity. It seems it will rain, Gwen thought, how dour. She shook her head and pushed any negative thoughts away. Right now she was happy, and she wasn't about to let the weather ruin it.

She turned her head away from the carriage window and towards the man she might marry. Her future.

She took this time to _really_ study him. He had very round dark green eyes and a defined large nose. He was an average height, stick-thin, with a restless face framed by ash-black hair. He was tired, the dark circles under his eyes proved that.

He hadn't slept all night during the carriage ride, she herself had dozed off for a few hours.

"We can't be much farther now. How much longer is it to your estate?" Gwendolyn asked him.

"Hm?" He met her gaze with a slow blink, he was very tired indeed, "Oh," He looked out the window and recognized the surrounding areas, "We're nearly there, only 30 minutes or so. And it's my family's estate..." He laid back in his cushioned seat and closed his eyes. Letting out a soft breath.

Gwen smiled as she thought his exhaustion was cute. His eyelashes were thick and feminine, when he closed them they seemed to fan out making his face look calm and peaceful.

Soon enough, as Garrick predicted, they arrived at the estate. It was grand, although not as grand as Highever. As Bryce Couslands was a Teryn and Gallagher Wulff was an Arl.

Except Gwen didn't care how grand or poor Garrick was. None of that mattered to her.

Gwendolyn exited the carriage by Garrick's hand, he escorted her as a Lord should escort a Lady. She looked about her in wonder, it didn't seem like reality to her. Hope was so close yet so far. All she had to do was grasp it.

The servants lead them quickly inside, away from the approaching dark clouds. The moment they stepped inside she was immediately separated from Garrick and was shown her quarters. They took their young master to his own chambers. Gwen barely had time to wish him a good nights sleep.

The servants stripped and bathed her, something she was only half accustomed to. She was used to having some servants wait on her, but this was too much.

After the servants were done violating her privacy she was left to herself in the dimly lit guest room.

The rain started pouring down and pounded on her room's glass window. She shivered, suddenly feeling lonely. The thin silk night gown did nothing to keep her warm. Her eyes turned hesitantly to the door, slowly her body followed and instinct took over.

Although she was in strange place she had never been in, and it was dark and cold, she somehow still managed to make her way across the mansion to a wooden door with silver hinges. Under the door she could see light and felt a hearth's warmth on her feet.

With baited breath she turned the door nob, lightly pushing the door ajar.

The warmth enveloped her body with a kindness. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the raging fire in the hearth, then rose to the figure standing above it.

Garrick's arms were crossed in pensive concentration, gazing deep into the flames. He didn't even notice her entrance.

Her breaths were silent, as well as her footsteps. A skill that was ingrained into her from her days of hunting.

Gwen didn't want to seem like she was creeping, so she decided to make herself known. With a little more force, she shut the door. She didn't slam it, but made sure Garrick could hear it.

Garrick was startled, "Gwendolyn! What are you doing in here? Its late, if the servants saw you..."

Gwen quickly went to him and calmed his fears, "It's alright. No one saw me."

His initial shock faded and was replaced with confusion, "How did you know where I was?"

"I'm not sure...I was cold and I couldn't sleep. I just followed...my heart?" She ended in question, not quite sure what word she wanted to use.

"That is...quite the navigation skill you have. But...what did you expect by coming here?" He asked, hoping she wasn't thinking what he thought she was.

She cocked her head to the side, not understanding what he meant, "I suppose warmth, and comfort." She said this honestly and without implications, but he didn't catch on.

He gulped, "Gwendolyn...I can't. We're not married yet...this isn't. You should go back to your room."

He grabbed her by the hand and started to lead her to the door, "I'm not going anywhere! And what _are_ you talking about?" She protested.

He let go of her, surprised, "Wait. You don't? I mean, that's not what you meant?"

"I just...I saw how tired you were earlier, and you still couldn't sleep. I thought maybe...never mind," She blushed profusely, feeling like an idiot.

"Oh Gwen," He sighed, wrapping her in an embrace. His long arms blanketed all the way around her.

She smiled and hugged him back. Is this what happiness feels like? She asked herself. For that moment was something she had never experienced before.

The spent the night together innocently in his bed. The rain stopped sometime in the twilight, although neither of them noticed because they were fast asleep in each others arms.

 _IXI_

Waking up the next morning was blissful and serene, until Garrick realized what time it was and rushed her out of the room. Gwen didn't mind, she understood the repercussions of being caught, even if they didn't do anything.

She stealthily made her way back to her room, Only a few minutes after she got back a servant entered and jumped in surprise.

"Oh! You're already awake!" Suddenly she down at her feet, knowing she had broken her employer's protocol, "You've been summoned to the dining hall for breakfast," She curtsied and took her leave, "My lady,"

Gwen quickly looked around for the wardrobe, found it, and flung it open. Inside was an assortment of men and woman's clothing. She threw a nice maroon dress over her and slipped on a matching pair of shoes. Just before running out the door she looked in the mirror and fixed her hair.

Finding the dining hall was easy enough, it was straight ahead of the main hall. Before entering the room she took a deep breath to calm the anxiety flowing through her veins.

She opened the door confidently and strode in.

Inside was the entire family, including Garrick who must have started getting ready the moment she left. There was his mother who had tight lips and cold blue eyes; she sat with arms crossed and chin raised high, glaring at her with a critical eye. This unnerved Gwendolyn, but it did not throw her of her game.

Then there was his father, who was the opposite to his mother. He had long gray hair, matched with a long gray beard. He had kind eyes that were marked with laughter, yet under those joyful lines Gwen could see the stress he faced everyday being an Arl. The stress of responsibility, honor, and sacrifice.

Then there were Garrick's endless siblings and cousins. Gwen couldn't tell which ones were which, but there were a lot of them. She guessed he had about seven or eight siblings, and maybe five or so cousins in the room. But it was only a guess.

The ages of the room varied greatly, the youngest looking to be about five and the oldest, of course being Gallagher Wullf: the Arl. There was plenty of adults though. Ranging from their twenties to thirties.

Garrick sat next to his father at the head of the table. There was one empty seat across from him, next to his mother. Gwen realized then, that she was late...very late. She hadn't taken that long getting ready, had she?

She took her seat cautiously, and met the icy gaze of his mother..

"Do they teach you to be punctual at Highever?" Her shrill voice cutting Gwen's ears.

"I-I...I didn't mean to cause offense," Gwen muttered out, utterly embarrassed.

"Hermeneia!" Gallagher Wulff raised voice authoritatively, "That is no way to treat out guest."

He turned to Gwendolyn, "I'm sorry for my wife's behavior. She's normally not like this. Distrustful of strangers is all," Brushing aside that awkward topic, he asked her is she had enjoyed her stay last night.

"Yes, your hospitality is very welcoming," She said politely.

Gwen's stomach rumbles when she saw the food trays come out, but she restrained herself from eating like a starving pack of wolves. _Yes, I'm sure his mother would appreciate that_ _._

She did her best to eat like a Lady, delicately eating her meal. After she was done eating, and Hermeneia was done scrutinizing her every move, she bundled up her courage and tried to get back on the right foot with Garrick's mother.

"I truly want to apologize for being late. I know that it is unseemly and I don't wish to make a bad first impression with you. I hope that in time we can be friends," She smiled hopefully at her.

Hermeneia raised an eyebrow at her with a pointed look, but decided to let it go, "It is fine child. For now..." She left an unspoken insult in the air, but it was not as tense as it had been before. Gwen viewed this as an accomplishment and inwardly cheered.

 _IXI_

The study smelled of old books and dust. The morning light lit up the air, making every particle seen. The miniscule little pieces of the world floated around, aimlessly. A spec of dust that had once resided on Gallagher's globe, landed peacefully on Hermeneia's shoulder.

"We sent you there to woo the Teryn's eldest daughter and you bring home her second rate sister," Hermeneia huffed in disappointment, "My! She's not even attractive the skinny little thing." The dust particle flew violently off of her shoulder and fell to the ground.

"But mother she-" Garrick couldn't believe what his mother was saying.

"I do not care for your excuses. You filled her head with fantasies of marriage! This must be corrected. Your father was expecting more from you. More for the people! An Arl's son should know better! There are lives at stake. We need their protection, we are running out food and trade. You know this! Were a major crisis to hit us...I don't know what would happen to us Garrick."

Garrick sighed and begrudgingly said, "I...understand now."

"Good. Because I've sent word to the Couslands of their daughter's return. Which will be very soon now that we've cleared this up. I may have also given them another offer to consider."

Garrick raised a worried eyebrow but his mother waved her hand "You will find out soon enough."

 _IXI_

Gwendoyl was unaware of what had happened in just the other room. She went home happy and light as a feather thinking it went well. That was until her own mother came up to her in a raging storm the moment she arrived home.

"You went behind our backs to scam Lord Garrick into making you a marriage proposal? You scheming...! I'll have you know that was your sister's mark for the night." there was such a bitterness to her voice that Gwen wanted to spit. _Mark? She viewed Garrick as a mark? And I never_ _scammed_ _him! He came up to me!_ Although she wanted to scream this at her mother, she did not. She knew it would only worsen her temper.

Eleanor took a deep breath and calmed herself, "It doesn't matter what you tried to do, now that it's failed. Don't ever try to grab for power that was destined for your sister," she threatened.

Gwendoyln was confused, "What do you mean failed?"

"Oh my!" she held back a laugh, "You don't know? His family sent us a letter before you arrived. You've been rejected. They don't want you to marry their son. Even more interesting they ask that Elissa and Garrick meet personally to discuss such matters as...marriage for one."

"You wouldn't dare," Gwen felt the familiar rage boil up beneath her.

"I would and I will. He was never meant for you. As you were always meant for the Chantry. Know your place and remember it."

The heat was radiating off of Gwen's body. Eleanor sensed Gwen raged and retreated to her chambers before things got lethal.

That night she gave into her old vice and stormed into the woods. She burned brightly with furry as she charged a pack of wolves. She ravaged them tearing them apart limb from limb. The poor animals only attacked her on instinct of hunger, with no idea of the atrocities that awaited them.

When the red settled, she found herself a million miles away from her goal. She wanted to be normal, to be calm and serene. To stop killing. But she couldn't.

She just couldn't.

She feel to her knees like a wounded, defeated warrior. Crying out in despair she wailed at the top of her lungs. She screamed until her throat was raw and there were no bird wings flapping, no night crickets chirping. The woods were silent as it lamented the loss of the wolves and the loss of Gwen's humanity.


	3. Chapter 3: A Gray Offer

Chapter 3: A Gray Offer

They were summoned to the main hall to meet a mysterious visitor. Elissa and Gwendolyn. Yin and yang. Pure opposites.

Gwendolyn had been in the castle Chantry when she was summoned, reviewing the Chant for a history lesson she would give to the young squires.

She was 25 years old, and a Chantry sister of Highever. As her parents foretold since her childhood, she took her vows after her 21st birthday. Albeit reluctantly, she complied and said her vows in confidence.

Gwen had given up hope and resigned to this life of chastity and faith...mostly. She had never been a good Andrastian in the first place. In more secrecy than ever, she continued to vent her frustrations in the forest. This sharpened her senses, combat and perception. It was an addiction truly, but an extremely dangerous addiction she could not get rid of. If anyone of note found out, then she'd be burned at the stake for heresy; crimes against humanity.

Gwen questioned her own sanity often, but no one else could tell for she shielded that crazy look in her eyes well.

Elissa had not ended up marrying Garrick, they were engaged for a time, but that ended quickly once word of the Wulff's dismal state of affairs got out. No, Eleanor would not tie her precious daughter to a lecher who could not provide her, or their house, anything. Of course Gwen had been angry when they tossed him aside, but then she remembered her anger towards the Wulffs at rejecting her.

Gwen had become very good at lying, or so she thought. So when she was summoned to the throne room, she held a stone cold face; showing no hint of surprise or curiosity. No, she would not give her family any leverage over her emotions.

"Ah!" Bryce Cousland looked over at the approaching pair. He had been in conversation with Arl Howe, "There you are!" He motioned for them to join him.

"Howe, you remember my two daughters. Elissa and Gwendolyn," Bryce looked fondly upon Elissa, she was his golden child.

"Of course," Arl Rendon Howe's gaze turned to Elissa, "And might I say what a fine young woman you've become. I am pleased to see you again."

"And you," Elissa blushed and curtsied, lifting her yellow dress just enough so the floor didn't soil its beauty.

"Is your family here with you, Arl Howe?" Gwendolyn asked. She was curious if Nathaniel was there, and if she would need to avoid him.

"No, they're back in Amaranthine, safely away from the fighting," He told her curtly, as though her question was barely worth her time. He turned to Elissa once again, "My son Thomas asked after you. Perhaps I should bring him next time."

"Thomas is quite a bit younger than I am. How is Nathaniel?" Elissa diverted the topic from Thomas. Howe had been trying to persuade her for years to consider a future marriage between the two.

"He is well, but no longer in Fereldan. He's living in the Free Marches."

"Oh," Elissa eyebrows shot up, probably wondering what he was doing there. Did he forget about her already?

Bryce interjected, quickly changing the topic, "I almost forgot to mention we have a special guest at Highever. A Grey Warden has come to look for possible recruits,"

Howe's mask of indifference slipped for just a moment, a moment for Gwendolyn to notice it and no one else. On the outside he seemed mildly surprised and intrigued, but Gwendolyn saw what he felt on the inside: anger and annoyance.

 _Now why would Howe be annoyed by the visit of a Grey Warden? Wardens are highly respected individuals, especially in times of a Blight._

"Duncan!" Bryce turned to his left, "There's our man now!"

Duncan was an older man, about the same age as Bryce, possibly younger. He looked like he hadn't slept in many moons, and his posture bowed from exhaustion. His dark long hair was swept up into a ponytail and he sported a neatly trimmed beard. Even still, the effects from his long journey were apparent.

"I must say again, thank you for your warm hospitality. It's been very welcoming. These are your daughters I take it?" He asked, addressing the rest of the room except Arl Howe.

"Yes, Elissa and Gwendolyn Cousland. Elissa has become a fine lady of the court and hopes to marry soon. Gwendolyn is a member of our Chantry, she teaches the younger children of the castle."

"The Chantry you say?" Duncan asked Bryce for confirmation.

When Duncan had entered the room his gaze was drawn to Gwendolyn first. There was something about her aura that he found familiar. Her eyes scanned the room, and studied the faces of those around her. She was perceptive, he could tell that.

The second thing he noticed was the tendency of her hands. They always stayed close to her sides or her waist. Exactly where a sword or dagger might go.

She was no ordinary Chantry sister. He wondered if her family knew that, because he could tell just by taking one look at her.

"Yes, she took her vows about...four winters ago," Bryce paused, he did not often think of his other daughter Gwendolyn.

Arl Howe did not like being excluded from a conversation, he believed it was ignorant and rude of the Warden to not address him. He would not be further humiliated, "Ahem," he cleared his throat, "My sincerest apologies Teryn, on the delay of my men. Hopefully they will be here soon, but for now I shall retire."

Bryce nodded in Howe's direction as he quickly left the main hall.

"If I might be so bold as to suggest that your daughter would be a good candidate," Bryce's attention was immediately diverted back to the Warden.

Bryce stood protectively in front of Elissa, "This is my daughter we're talking about here. I'd not see all my children off to battle."

Duncan's eyes lingered om Gwen, the daughter he originally meant, but spoke nothing more of the matter.

Something in Gwendolyn clicked.

 _He knows what I am. No one, not a single idiot in this court could see. And yet to him I was like a window, so open and vulnerable._ She cursed inwardly, she hated being transparent. He had read her like she was a book, all her secrets spilled onto a yellowed paper page.

Her eyes narrowed at him, so he wanted her join the ranks of the Grey Warden's did he? Was the blight truly that awful that he'd suggest bringing a Chantry sister into the Order?

 _IXI_

After she and Elissa had been dismissed she returned to her duties. She began copying excerpts from the Chant onto scrolls. The feathered pen tapped softly against the glass of the ink jar.

She heard someone approaching; she heard the clink of armor and swords and the rustle of his clothes, "Duncan, what brings you here?" She asked, without looking up from her work.

"Earlier, you knew I spoke of recruiting you and not your sister. What I wish to know is how your skills have escaped the notice of your parents and siblings alike," He laughed, "You have great talent, I can see that."

Gwen suddenly felt a ball of bitterness choke around her throat. She closed her eyes and inhaled a sharp breath, the pen had already found its place in its holder, "Talent? Skill?" she scoffed, "I have none of that. You are mistaken, you assume you know exactly who I am but you know nothing. I am no warrior...not fit for life or death battles."

Instead of taking offense to her outburst he...smiled,"You're right I don't know who you are or what you've gone though. But what I do know is that the Blight calls on all of us, and you can help us. I know it," he stepped closer using grand gestures, "And that! That spirit there! You have shown you have bravery, and a drive to live."

Gwen was truly taken aback, no one had believed in her before, not since Garrick...but that was years ago.

 _If only he knew how I had acquired these "skills". I doubt he'd want me in the Order then._

She looked around the room, seeing if there were any potential eavesdroppers. "I can hunt, and track. And I know how to handle a sword, a dagger, and a bow. But...I implore you...do not ask how I've learned this, all I feel obligated to tell you is that it comes from experience."

Duncan did not seemed deterred by this in fact he seemed more pleased, "So you can fight?"

"Yes, but I've never fought a human..." Gwen wondered if she had already given away too much.

"That's fine, you won't be fighting humans, you'll be fighting darkspawn."

"You make it sound as though I've already agreed." She commented, slightly irritated at how he successfully convinced her.

"But you already have, haven't you?" He said in an all knowing tone.

"Maker, how I hate you..." Gwendolyn groaned under her breath.

 _IXI_

Gwendolyn laid awake in her bed that night contemplating Duncan's offer. The more she thought about it the more she liked it.

It was natural for Gwen to distrust people and their ideas at first. She wondered if the Maker had not given up on her yet, and maybe _this_ was her true chance at freedom. Then again, she was a sister. How much closer could she get to the Maker? Making her leave the Chantry didn't seem like what a divine would want.

She thought back to the man that had saved her life all those years ago. She had been very pious and patient after that. But it only lasted for so long.

Built up depression and resentment were stronger than she realized and subtly crept into her everyday thoughts. And yet never again did she think of killing herself or hurting herself. Instead she did quite the opposite. She was self-serving, cold, like many of the Orlesian nobles she had heard about.

Still, she believed the Maker had a plan for her. And some small part of her refused to believe that plan was wasting away her life in a Chantry. That small part agreed to join the Order. That small part of her made one of the biggest decisions of her life.

She inhaled deeply, tossing and turning. All of these thoughts were preventing her from sleeping. _It must already be the middle of the night..._

Her hands itched and twitched, she knew what she had to do to get some sleep.

Her addiction called her out of her bed, dressed her in armor, and revealed her secret stash of weapons under her bed.

She chose a few sharp daggers and her trusty oak longbow. Arming herself comfortably, she made her way to the door. She paused just inches of turning the knob. She could have sworn she heard screaming in the distance, but maybe that was just her nightmares invading her reality.

She shook her head and fully turned the doorknob. The next scream was closer... and _much_ more real. She had yet to open the door, fear held her there.

So many thoughts entered her brain, yet no words of any language were among those thoughts. The door knob started to turn, Gwen yanked her hand off of it like it was fire for she was not the one who turned it. She jumped behind the door just in time. A dark figure entered the room, it was hard to tell but she could see he was dressed in leather armor, bearing the shield crest of...Arl Howe?

 _That bastard! I should have known this was coming..._ Gwendolyn barely suppressed a snarl as she unsheathed her dagger and snuck up behind the man.

She then realized that if she killed him, she would truly descend into madness. She had never attacked another human before, and certainly never murdered another person.

Then her survival voice drowned out her morals, if she didn't kill him now he'd realize she was there. Then she would be dead. _Sorry but...living matters more than morals right now._ She silently raised her arm and slid her dagger coolly across his throat. The blood spilled onto her hand, running down her arm.

A strange feeling of nothingness engulfed Gwen, she didn't feel any sickness or nausea. No overwhelming crippling guilt.

 _I just killed a man...and I don't even care...what have I become?_

She quickly shook these thoughts from her head; Highever was under attack. She could think about how horrible a person she was later.

She exited her chambers to find rooms filled with people mascaraed. The bodies of children, woman, and men alike lay slain, mangled on the floor in their own blood.

Things had been set ablaze in the chaos. Many possible escape routes were blocked. Gwen suddenly recalled her earlier days of adventuring and exploring the castle. There was a secret way out the castle, through the kitchen larder. If she could make it there, then she'd have a chance at surviving this bloody night.

 _IXI_

Gwendolyn did not find the kitchen larder empty. There lay, right before her eyes, her "loving" parents. Teryna Eleanor held her husband in her arms, not willing to let go. Bryce would die soon, there was no mistaking that. His silk shirt was stained red with his blood, which seeped onto the floor from under him.

Gwendolyn was not sure what to feel, should she feel sad to see her parents in such a state? Or should she feel indifferent; their treatment of her bore no love.

Eleanor looked up, her eyes bloodshot and filled with tears, "Gwendolyn..."

The simple weakness her displayed voice filled Gwen with emotions she had not felt for Eleanor before. This vulnerable and broken side of her proud mother made Gwen feel...empathy?

"Gwendolyn..." Eleanor said through choked sobs, "There's something I must tell you..."

Gwen knelt down by her mother, "What is it?" she had a concerned look on her face.

Eleanor's gaze broke from Gwen to the door, where Duncan emerged from.

"You. Grey Warden. You must...," Her voice strained, "must help Gwendolyn leave this place alive. She's..." Eleanor looked back to Gwen, taking in deep breaths.

"What I have to say is not easy. But you deserve to know. We do not hate you but...Gwen...you are not our child..." Eleanor looked in desperation at Gwen who had yet to react, "I'm so sorry. For all the ways we've treated you but...it was necessary."

Gwen was speechless, her entire life...a lie. She couldn't wrap her head around the fact that Eleanor was not her mother, Bryce was not her father, Elissa not her sister...Fergus not a brother...

"If this were ever come to light...we couldn't have you being the heir to any of our assets. We couldn't allow ourselves to get close to you and accept you as our daughter, lest the truth be revealed. After a while it became easier...then natural. There was not another way to treat you then what we had been. We were...used to it." Eleanor's admission left her ashamed and embarrassed. She knew that her reason was no excuse for the cruel life that Gwen had had.

"...you neglected me all those years...gave my only chance at a normal life away...all because you were afraid? Because you were used to treating me like dirt?" She spat disgusted.

"Everything we did was for the good of our family,"

"Your family... you cruel horrible people." Any empathy she had felt for Eleanor had been crushed and turned into anger.

She wanted to leave this place. Leave it all behind.

She glared at her "parents" with such an intense hatred that Eleanor thought she'd kill them. Instead she threw herself at the door and down the secret passage.

Gwendolyn left Eleanor without another word or second glance, she left them to die. In her mind they deserved whatever fate they got.

Gwendolyn knew the passage well and didn't wait for Duncan to catch up, she reached the end of it in no time. Only when the cool night air entered her lungs did she finally calm.

Her back slid against the cobblestone of the exit, until her body hit the ground. She collapsed onto the dewy grass, her soul was crushed.

Without warning the tears came, she sobbed and cried and the stabbing feeling of pain racked her chest until she couldn't breathe.

 _Who am I anymore?_

Duncan followed the sound of her sorrow easily, he only worried that Howe's men might hear it too.

Fortunately he found her unscathed, physically at least. He cries had stopped as she had passed out. Her scrawny body sprawled across the dirt. Duncan sighed, this would be a long journey.

He dutifully pulled her into his arms and carried her. She was a thin light bundle; all that anger and sadness weighed her down when she was awake. But when she was asleep...her face was calm peaceful. Something quite uncharacteristic for Gwendolyn.

He prayed to the Maker she'd pass her joining, or else he'd be walking this girl from one deathly situation to the next.

They were Fereldan's last hope. Duncan imagined Gwen would have a hard time accepting that.

He looked upon her face once more, a tiny plain moth had landed on the tip of her nose. It seemed to look up at him with some semblance of meaning. Then, it flapped its wings gently and calmly, before fluttering away into the vast forest.


	4. Chapter 4: Surrounded

Chapter 4: Surrounded

Gwen said nothing when she awoke, for there was nothing she could say. Duncan had set up a meager camp fire to keep them warm in the bitterness of Parvulis. The fire created smoke that swirled with the light wind, causing Gwen to cough whenever it entered her lungs.

 _9:30_ she thought, contemplating, _the first year of my new life._

Gwen had thought about leaving Duncan in the middle of the night, starting her own adventure instead of joining the Order. No real reason compelled her to stay, for she had not seen the Blight with her own eyes.

But Duncan had seen something in her that no one else had, that fact alone made her stay. He deserved that at least.

Duncan would often stare at her with a strange look that Gwen could not interpret. It was as if he was pondering something. A choice, or a decision perhaps? She didn't know, and didn't ask. If he wished to share his thoughts, then he would do so.

Gwen had slept on the cold hard ground, with only her clothes and the grass to cushion her; Duncan did the same.

In the morning they stamped out the fire leaving the smoldering embers behind them.

Duncan believed it was time to fill me in, "Now that you're rested I can tell you that we're heading to Ostagar. We shall arrive there just a few days before the battle begins. You and two other recruits will proceed with your joining. Many battles against the Blight have been fought there, and won. I cannot tell if this is a true Blight; there have been no signs of an Archdemon. But my instincts tell me otherwise. If there is an Archdemon at the head of this, we will need all of you."

Gwen took this in and processed it. She was going to be apart of a great battle...and fight in that battle no less! That thought seemed strange to her, being valued that is. Duncan hadn't even seen her fight before, yet he had the utmost confidence in her.

 _Almost like what a father should be..._ Gwen didn't know what good loving parents looked like, but she assumed that Duncan would have made a nice father.

 _IXI_

They approached the colossal monument with gathered speed. The closer and closer they got the more Gwen wanted to pick up her feet and run at the fort. The feeling of anticipation was bursting within her, she wasn't used to this feeling of excitement. But she supposed that after everything that had happened, very little would be the same with her.

But just before she reached the gates, she recalled a lost memory. A conversation from what seemed ages ago.

"Fergus." She scarcely breathed his name on her lips.

Fergus had left the night before the attack to join the King's army at...Ostagar. Gwen realized Fergus had no idea what had happened, no idea that his wife and child were dead, as well as his sister, mother, and father.

All that remained was Gwendolyn.

A group of approaching soldiers brought her out of her thoughts. From her distance she could tell it was King's men from their shields, and as they neared...the King himself!

"Ah Duncan! I'm so glad you could make it in time! I've always wanted to ride into battle with the fabled Grey Wardens fighting beside me. And this must be your new recruit we've heard about?" The King extended his hand to her, "King Cailan Therin, I'm pleased to finally meet you," Gwen didn't know whether she was supposed to shake it or kiss it. So she did nothing but silently stare at him.

After the awkward silence passed he reluctantly withdrew his hand, "Not much of a talker are you?"

Duncan interjected, explaining Gwen's situation on her behalf, leaving out the part of her unknown parentage. Gwen shot Duncan a look, wishing he had not told the King so much about her.

"I don't know why Howe would think he could get away with such a thing! After the battle, I promise, we will deal with the matter. This is treason for the Howes." The King promised her.

Gwen secretly thought that his promise would be reassuring, if she had loved her family at all. Alas she had no desire to return to Highever, or try and hunt Howe down.

Yes, she was angry that he tried to have her killed, but that was only because he believed her to be a Cousland. In reality, she held no grudge against the man.

In truth she knew he was a vile, horrible disgusting man. And if she did happen to cross paths with him at some point, she would not hesitate to bring him down.

This seemed like an unlikely scenario to Gwen, so she thought nothing more of it. She didn't care about Howe, or his greed.

Duncan and the King talked about the Blight for a moment. Gwen noticed how light-hearted the King was, and how the threat of the Blight did not scare him. She believed the man to be a fool, but said nothing, least _she_ be the one accused for treason.

"Well, I must be off before Loghain sends out a search party. I shall see you tonight at the feast then?"

"Wait!" Gwen almost shouted, startled by her own sudden decision, "My brother, Fergus, he's here as a solider. I'd like to see him."

"Yes, of course! But he's out scouting in the Korcari Wilds, and won't be back until after the battle."

"It's urgent, please. He's lost- we've lost- our entire family. He deserves to know as soon as possible," Somehow Gwen managed to hit a soft spot in the King.

"No, you are right. You are very right. I'll send word that he must attend the feast tonight, you can speak to him there...and relay the news to him in person." He grimaced, knowing that he would not want to have to tell a man his family was slaughtered like livestock.

"Thank you, your Majesty. This means a lot to me," Gwen put on a facade of feeling, in truth on the inside she felt nothing. Her soul that has once resided there was numb or possibly gone.

But she needed to ask Fergus questions, for this she begged to see him.

 _IXI_

Duncan told her to find and introduce herself to another Grey Warden by the name of Alistair, when she was ready to gather the other recruits.

Ostagar was a marvel, she had never seen anything like it. The stone towers that characterized its grandness seemed to reach endlessly into the sky, she wondered across the bridge and into the camp.

She first came across an elder woman dressed in strawberry red robes speaking with a younger woman who had long black hair roughly pulled back into a pony tail. The younger woman was not wearing robes, but leather armor, but she held herself in the same way as the elder woman. They seemed like intelligent scholars, the way the younger woman brought her hand up to her chin to think reminded Gwen of the old historian back in Highever...who was dead.

Gwen passed the two woman and continued onward. She met a tranquil, but did not stay for long; the simple monotone of the man's voice sent chills down her spine.

 _That's was truly not having a soul looks like._ Gwen reminded herself, by looking at the tranquil, that she had not fallen to that depth. Although it disturbed her that it made her feel better about herself to see someone so...lifeless.

She then met the blacksmith, who she convinced to show his "special" stock. Gwen's eyes lit up with she saw the poison. _Poison..._ she hadn't given it much thought before, but she took a liking to it. Something about the way the chemicals reacted together to create a mixture so toxic it could kill.

Poison intrigued her. It was definitely something she wanted to learn about.

"Where did you buy this merchandise?" Gwen asked the black smith curiously. He eyed her for a moment, wondering if she was actually an under cover guard.

He made up his mind that she was not there to reveal him and told her that he had bought it from a passing merchant from Antiva. The art of poison is valued greatly in Antiva.

Gwen smiled at that, Antiva sounded so exotic and new to her, but the smile was predatory, "How much for this dagger?"

He offered her a fair price but warned her never to buy a poison without it's antidote. The blacksmith was a cunning man, charging a high price for the antidote than the dagger itself.

"You must be very careful of this poison. It is called Serpent's Vile, and has devastating effects. The primary reason is it so popular is that it reduces the movement of the person after a few minutes, making them shaky and less reactive. Then after an hour the person falls ill, possibly passing out. If the poison is not gone from their blood stream within the next few days, the person will die a very painful death. It is a favorite among assassins, or so I've heard," the blacksmith ended his long-winded explanation and revealed the total price for the dagger and antidote. Luckily, Gwen had come from a wealthy family, and just before leaving for the kitchen larder she had paid the Cousland treasury a visit.

She didn't feel guilty; the Couslands owed her much. Gwen paid a high price for the weapon, but was satisfied with her purchase.

When she turned away from the blacksmith she noticed a tall man with dark curly hair and a scruffy face. He seemed to be hitting on a blonde woman dressed in chain mail, and failing at it. The woman scoffed and shook her head, leaving the man disappointed.

He turned in Gwen's direction to see her staring at the exchange, he smiled and waved at her to come closer. Gwen cautiously walked up to the man, upon closer inspection she noticed he seemed to be about the same age as her, but a hard life left him with an older face.

"Well you're not what I thought you'd be." He said, eyeing her up and down.

"What?" Gwen asked stupidly, his gaze made her feel uncomfortable and unable to concentration.

"I'd been hearing about another recruit, but you're not what I imagined." His voice reminded her of a Fennec, or what a Fennec would sound like if it were a person. It was high pitched, but still masculine, his accent was a heavily lower class of Fereldan, possibly Denerim.

"What did you think I'd be?" Gwen said, her brows furrowed together in question. He seemed like a rude fellow, not on purpose. But still, it annoyed her.

"Well not a skinny girl like yourself! I suppose I was expecting someone a bit more..." He could tell he was slowly starting to irritate her, but continued on talking.

"A man you mean? Or perhaps a taller more attractive woman. Certainly not little ugly me," She spat at him.

His eyes widened in an apologetic sort, "I meant no offense milady, but well I've been hearing talk around the camp...about this joining."

Gwen looked interested so he continued, "I think they mean to send us into the wilds. And then there's another thing about a ritual of some sort. All this secrecy makes my nose twitch."

"There's a reason why we're here, and that's to join the Wardens. If that means rituals and the "scary" wilds, so be it." Gwen said a matter of factly. Then another thought clicked in her brain. _Wait a second...the wilds! That's where Fergus is, maybe I'll run across him while we're out there._

"You're a lot braver than I am then. Names Daveth." He took her hand and placed his other hand on top of hers, "If you need anything, I'll be here," he said with a wink and let go.

Gwen had been too stunned by his sudden touch, but recovered quickly. She gave him a curt goodbye and continued looking for the other Grey Warden.

This Daveth was very friendly, or maybe he was just trying to get into her skirts... either way she didn't care.

She ascended the giant stair case located near to the blacksmith, at her far left were an assortment of chairs and tables. A place for meetings she presumed.

There were great stone arches above her, holding up the ancient fort. She wondered what would happen if they fell at that moment, crushing her body underneath. They certainly looked old enough too.

To her right, there was another set of stairs, Gwen inwardly groaned. How many stairs were there in this place?

As she trudged up the steep slope she heard yelling coming from above. When the scene was revealed to her she saw three people: an obvious mage who seemed irritated out of his mind; the woman with black hair she had seen before, and...a strikingly handsome blonde man in chain mail. His hair was short and spiky and his eyes were a gorgeous green.

Gwen felt her body immediately shiver at the sight of him. This thought was extremely unwelcome and invasive. She forced it out of her mind and watched the conversation unfold. The mage seemed upset while the handsome man looked...mildly amused?

The mage stormed away, not even bothering to acknowledge Gwen's presence.

The black haired woman approached the man and laughed loudly. Her voice seemed sweet to Gwen. Which made Gwen grimace. Gwen hadn't even seen the woman's face yet, but she knew she'd be beautiful. Just by the way she confidently talked to the handsome man, like they were equals of beauty.

Gwen couldn't take it any more, she got closer to the two and made her self known, "Ahem," she choked out, "Are you Alistair?" Gwen only guessed, and secretly she hoped she was right. It would mean she would get to look at him more.

"I am?" Alistair shifted his attention away from the woman, who Gwen had refused to look at so far, "Do you have a message for me?"

This confused Gwen, "A message? No, no," she realized that he had mistaken her for a servant. She didn't know how he could possible think that, as she was wearing armor. Did she really seem so fragile and weak that he couldn't possibly think she was a recruit? Daveth saw she was the other recruit, even if he did acknowledge her weakness.

"My name is Gwen. I'm the new recruit."

"Oh. Oohhh!" Alistair blushed, realizing his embarrassing mistake, "I'm Alistair...but you already know that." He laughed awkwardly and nervously rubbed the back of his head. The woman laughed cutely at his gauche mistake.

Her laugh distracted Gwen, and for a moment she forgot she wasn't going to look. But it was to late and she had already turned her head.

The woman was...beautiful was an understatement. Her beauty didn't come from a perfect face, but the simplicity and clearness of her face. Her eyes were a crystal glass blue, stray strands of her hair fell to frame her face in an attractive nature. Her smile lit up her eyes with a joy that Gwen never had.

Gwen's countenance darkened. She felt like a lowly commoner in the face of a queen. _I am a potato and she is..spiced roast beef._ Gwen became aware of the fact that she was extremely hungry and had had nothing to eat since last night's supper with Duncan. Which had consisted of stale bread and cheese.

"I'm Solona, a mage from a circle of magi. Also a recruit for the Grey Wardens, and am very pleased to make your acquaintance," instead of shaking Gwen's hand she nodded respectively. Gwen appreciated that, but still didn't like the fact that she was breath taking. It reminded her too much of her sister. Although she seemed a lot kinder than her sister.

Gwen nodded to Solona as well, and told Alistair what Duncan told her, "I've also already met Daveth. That was...interesting," She said sarcasticily

Solona commented, "Yes Daveth is very, mmmm insistent seems the right word. I'd watch out for him if I were you, that one's a womanizer. We had plenty of those in the circle, no matter how much the Templars tried to stop it," Solona grimaced, remembering her home as a distant place she could never go back to.

"Did you like living in the circle?" Gwen asked.

"Like it?" Solona scoffed, "Very few mages _like_ being imprisoned and constantly watched over. Well except for Wynn, but she doesn't know another home. Sometimes I feel sorry for the old woman..."

"I didn't realize you felt so strongly on the matter," Gwen had very few experiences with mages, she had only seen healers from the circles whenever an important noble in Highever had fallen ill. Stories from the circle were rare.

"Yes well," she whispered, "Let us not dwell on the matter any longer," her voice picked up and instantly she was more cheerful, "You said Duncan wanted to see us?"

"Yes, I suppose it is time to get this joining over with."

Duncan had them all circle around the center of the camp, giving the recruits and Alistair their directions. The recruits were to each collect a vial of darkspawn blood, and Alistair was to find and retrieve valuable Grey Warden documents from an old outpost.

"Duncan, do you think I'll come across Fergus in the Wilds?" Gwen asked.

"Unlikely, his group went scouting deeper than what you'll be going. Be patient and wait for him at the feast. The King gave his word. You cannot be distracted in the Wilds, there are many dangers that will take your life if you're not careful."

"I understand. I won't let it get the better of me," she promised him.

"Thank you, and good luck. I won't see all of you again until your joining."

Before leaving the gates with the party, the kennel master approached her. He asked her if she could find a specific flower that grew in the wilds, one of his dogs was sick with darkspawn blood poisoning. She made no promises but said that if she saw it, she would bring it back to him.

He thanked her graciously, leaving Gwen wondering about just how far people were willing to go for a favor.

People were a mystery to Gwen, even if she could read someone, she still didn't understand _why_ someone did something.

 _IXI_

"Logain, there's something we need to discuss."

Ser Logain Mac Tir raised an eyebrow but asked no questions, instead he gestured an invitation to sit and join him.

"You've seen the new recruit I presume? Not the mage."

"Yes, I've seen the boy running about." His voice drolled on, lacking interest.

"Well," Duncan paused, mulling over his next words, "What if I told you that skinny little boy was actually a woman. And a very important woman," Duncan's face turned serious.

Logain's eyes widened in shock his mouth slightly agape, he had never grown accustomed to wearing a mask in politics, like the damned Orlaisians did, "Are you referring to the Couslands?" Not long after the King welcomed Duncan and the recruit, the King had a meeting with Logain, mentioning Howe's treachery, "I never would have recognized Gwendolyn. I recall at some point her and Anora were playmates, but that was ages ago..." Logain trailed off still thinking about what that girl's survival meant for him.

"You understand why I'm telling you this? She needs to be protected, and there's something else...If I don't survive this battle..."

"I understand, I will see that she is taken care of." Logain did not lie in this statement but he did not tell the truth either.

"Thank you, but there is something else you should know. She is not a true daughter of the Cousland's."

"A bastard then?"

"No, no blood relation. An orphan. Given to them just before Elissa's birth."

It took him a second, but after that second it felt as though he had been forced into an entirely new playing field, one with new obstacles, one that he didn't have a plan for. The implications of what he had learned turned his insides cold and icy.

"Does she know of this?"

"No. And it will stay that way until the time is right. Hopefully she'll never have to."

Logain nodded, he understood perfectly what Duncan meant, but he would be making his own plans. For now he would play the part that Duncan wanted him to.

"One last thing, and this my friend, may shock you, but you must keep it to yourself,"

"Of course."


	5. Chapter 5: Arise

Chapter 5: Arise

The wilds were not how Gwen had imagined them. It was a swamp, filled with gore and magic. The entire placed reeked of fowl evil forces.

But at least the flower that the kennel master had mentioned grew all over the wilds; Gwen had no trouble locating. She wondered what the kennel master would give her in return for her cure.

Gwen's first encounter with a darkspawn had been, not her finest moment, if she ever did have a fine moment. The images of contorted and rotting flesh still burned into her mind, she felt light headed and had to sit down.

She was being thrust into this completely new world, a world of danger and blood and death. The blood was the least of her worries, in fact the blood didn't bother her at all.

It was the smell.

Then, she had to drain the horrid beast of its blood. The smell of rancid meat attacked her, making her choke and gag.

After she had finally gotten over the fact that they were indeed there to kill monsters, and after she had somewhat gotten used to the smell, she was able to focus on her surroundings.

She studied at how Daveth moved to kill, they had very similar fighting styles. The style of a rouge, Daveth said.

Gwen was inexperienced at killing things other than animals. Sure, dark spawn could be called animals, but they still walked around on two legs.

Later, when they were following up on Alistair's duty of finding the documents, they met a mysterious woman named Morrigan.

She was cautious, yet confident, and sarcastic. Gwen liked this woman, although this Morrigan was also intensely beautiful, she did not flaunt it or even recognize it.

Gwen believed her when she said she did not have their scrolls. But that her mother did.

"Can you take us to her then?" Gwen had asked.

"Now there's a sensible question. I like you."

Alistair narrowed his eyes, "I'd be careful if I were you. First its 'I like you' but then Zap! It's frog time."

 _IXI_

It was plainly obvious that Alistair did not enjoy Morrigan's company, in fact he rather hated it. Sometimes Gwen thought it was amusing, other times she thought it was just out right annoying. She wanted the two to shut up and stop their bickering.

Whenever Alistair wasn't arguing with Morrigan he was staring at Solona, something that bothered Gwen very much. She wished someone would stare at her like that. Then she quickly reminded herself that she didn't care, that it didn't matter. She didn't need anyone but herself, right?

Morrigan's mother, Flemeth, had been an old hag, but a very powerful old hag. She gave them the documents without problem, but sent them off with a strange feeling.

Flemeth stressed the importance of defeating the Blight, and how it would engulf everything if they did not stop it.

Her message had scared Gwen a little, she had never been given so much responsibility in her life. No one at Highever ever expected much from her. They all knew she was just some Chantry trainee. She wasn't important and now...she was suddenly one of the most important people in Fereldan.

She chided herself for her foolish thinking. _You're not a Grey Warden yet, don't let it go to your head. You're still inferior to..._ she didn't finish her thought. At least, not with words. Her gaze followed the trail up to Solona and Alistair who were chatting happily. _They seem to have gotten along well_.

By the time they had gotten back to Ostagar, the night had fallen and it was time for their joining.

The blood had been gathered, and the ritual was ready. Duncan awaited the three recruits in the place that Gwen had first met Alistair. There was a table set up, with a large white goblet. The designs carved into the side of the goblet looked foreign, Gwen couldn't tell from where exactly.

Everything was silent except for the sound of Duncan's deep resounding voice, "We will speak a few words, but these words have been said since the beginning. Alistair if you would." Duncan raised the goblet, and lowered his head. Not to drink, but in a prayer of sorts.

"Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that can not be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you." Alistair's voice was grave, but steady.

"Daveth, step forward." Duncan held the goblet out for Daveth to drink. He seemed hesitant at first, knowing that it was dark spawn blood he had to drink. Finally he gave in and tipped the goblet. "From this moment onward you are a Grey Warden."

It looked as if he had been hit by a wave of electric pain, his body shot out spasticly in every direction.

Solona and Gwen exchanged looks of horror. Gwen could tell Solona was frightened, Gwen was too but it was different. Gwen believed that she would live. The Maker had a plan for her. She would not die here on the cold stone floor.

Finally, Daveth's movements stopped. For a few difficult moments no one said a word, no one even breathed. Duncan stepped forward, placing two fingers over his neck. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, "He lives."

Solona and Gwen's eyebrows relaxed, then furrowed. If that is what it is like to live through the joining...they didn't want to know what it would be like to fail it.

"Solona. Step forward." Solona, took a deep breath, and muttered something under it, too soft for even Gwen to hear it. She confidently took a step forward and drank from the goblet that had caused Daveth so much pain. "From this moment onward, you are a Grey Warden."

At first nothing happened, but then she suddenly clutched her stomach, letting out a scream, a groan, of utter pain. She fell to her knees, trying to fight it.

Alistair stepped forward, but Duncan held him back. A look a pure worry and anxiety on Alistair's face, he prayed to the Maker she lived.

Under labored breathing she fell to the ground, passing out from the exhaustion.

Duncan didn't even have to check her pulse, her ragged breaths were enough to tell them that she was alive. Alistair's face changed into relief, but then he looked at Gwen and grimaced. There was still one more person.

In his joining only one person had died. He hoped Gwen would be strong enough to live. Rarely did no one die in a joining.

Had Duncan truly picked the right people? Would they have five wardens to fight the Blight in Ferelden?

"Gwendolyn. Step forward." Duncan voice was not as loud and confident. He too realized the probability of her chance at success. He looked at her evenly, "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Gwen said, although she wasn't. She had experienced many different types of pain before, but none so physical as this looked.

He gave her the goblet, and watched her every move, "From this moment onward, you are a Grey Warden...there is no going back," he added quietly, as though he was trying to convince himself.

Gwen hands were shaking, but she didn't notice it.

The moment was here, right here in front of her.

 _I'm not going to die. I will not die. I can do this. I will do this._ She chanted inside her head as she took in the deathly concoction.

The pain...it was unlike anything she had ever experienced. Her entire body was lit aflame. She screamed and writhed. Every nerve in her body was tortured. She felt like her blood was spilling from every point in her body. A worm, bleeding from the inside out.

Then she saw images, lived the images as if she was really there. She saw dark spawn, hundreds upon thousands of them. They pierced her mind like a white hot knife over and over...just stabbing her.

Then, as quickly as it came, it stopped. She saw nothing but a black abyss, and felt nothing. It was as if she didn't have a body. But the voices! She could hear them outside, surrounding her.

"I'm so sorry." Duncan's voice echoed in her abyss.

 _No, no, no! I'm not dead! Why can't you see that? Please, hear me. Hear me! The Maker...but I can't be...no...I'm not supposed to be dead. Why is this happening? WHY?!_

All of the sudden her black abyss turned into blinding light. Then, she had a body again. She could feel her hands, and her feet, then her legs and arms. She wanted to shout out, 'I'm alive' but there was no strength. Then the blinding light died down to reveal blurry colors. Blue, red, silver, black, blue...

Duncan leaned over her in his blue armor, a dagger at her throat. His eyes were closed, and his thoughts were in prayer.

Gwen's vision had returned, with her heart beating fast, she tried to reach out to Duncan to let her know that she was alive. But it did not work! She didn't have any control over her own body!

Then, her savior stopped Duncan from committing a grave mistake, "Duncan no! Stop!" Alistair rushed forward and knocked Duncan to the ground.

"She's alive!" Alistair exclaimed.

"But her heart!" Duncan turned to face her wide eyes, and yet still she could not speak, "It stopped..."

He walked over to her and helped her to her feet, "I'm sorry. If Alistair hadn't stopped me..."

Gwen shook her head, she wanted to say it was fine. He didn't see her, so she didn't blame him.

"But how are you alive?" Duncan asked her with great astonishment, "I checked myself and you were dead!"

Gwen had finally found her voice, but is was raspy and horse, she realized she had lost it while screaming, "I...I don't know...I need water...food," Gwen felt nauseated from hunger, and her throat burned.

"If you think you're ready you can go down to the feast, Alistair would you escort her? I'll make sure Daveth and Solona get back to their tents."

Alistair nodded, scooping up Gwen's wobbly form. She was as light as a feather, in her hungry state she must have only weighed 96 or so pounds.

He gently set her down in a chair near to most of the food and drink, and away from the loud drunken fools.

And from across the way, Fergus spied his sister's weak and ill form. He ran to her, knowing that she had grave news to tell him.

Fergus would not have ran if he knew what she had to say.

No, he would have wished he took more time to live in a world where everyone he loved still lived.


	6. Chapter 6: Sheer Will

Chapter 6: Sheer Will

"But did you _see_ her? With your own eyes?" Fergus demanded, hoping beyond hope.

"No, I did not," Gwen spoke the truth, "But Fergus... there's no way she would have lived...the men...they were ruthless."

"Then there's still hope," Fergus chose to ignore her reason, "After the battle we can tell the King of Howe's treachery, and take back Highever! We can find Elissa from there. You, Elissa, and I are the only remaining Couslands, we can't let Howe destroy Highever while we still yet live."

Gwen shrunk away from Fergus, knowing what she must say, "Fergus... I...I am not your sister."

Fergus's knit his eyebrows, "What do you mean? Of course you're my sister."

"No I am not," Gwen looked at him evenly, "Your mother told me everything...you must have known as well. You knew your mother didn't have twins...then why?" She left her question open because she had too many whys to ask.

"Because you're my sister and that's all that matters. I don't care if you're adopted, or who your parents were. I grew up with you, and I know I wasn't always the best brother, and mother and sister weren't kind to you, and father didn't pay attention you, but..." His voice broke, a frown capturing his face, "You're all I have left...please...please don't say we're not _family_ ," He pulled her into a bear-hug, swaying her from side to side.

 _I don't understand...I don't understand anything anymore...a family that hates me is all I've ever known._

Fergus was the closest thing to family she ever had. And yet it was still so deprived.

He taught her the basics of a sword and shield, and laughed with her, and played games as children with her. But when it came to defending her in front of Elissa or Eleanor...it never happened. He himself never tried to hurt her, but he valued his parents opinion of him far greater than having a simple friend.

She couldn't bring herself to trust his words now. Everything had been convenient for him. Gwendolyn was there for when he was bored, or needed a sparring partner. The same could go for the squires she used to teach.

She freed herself from his hold, "Fergus...if you wish to continue on that path. So be it. But I will not follow you," Her thoughts drifted to her new duty as a Grey Warden, "I have my own path now. My own destiny," She looked into his hurt eyes. These were eyes she didn't recognize, the eyes of a person who needed her...wanted her to join him...and _she_ had rejected _them._

"But sister..." Fergus reached out to her, his hand waited patiently for her to take it. All she had to do was accept it, and her would accept her.

Together they would restore Highever. They would find their lost family and over throw the traitorous Howe.

 _No!_

Gwen would not have it. She would not let Fergus ruin her destiny by pervading and infecting her thoughts.

 _He's trying to manipulate me! He just wants to use me so he can get back Highever and be Teryn himself! Then he'd just cast me aside. Like he always did in the face of his parents._

"No! I'll have none of this Fergus. I've given you my answer. My _final_ answer."

Fergus seemed shocked, then offended, then angry. His anger only fueled Gwen's even more.

"You'd let Howe get away with this?" He spat, "You bloody coward! You're no better than him!"

"How dare you!" Gwen came inches to his face, her face was red hot. She wanted to scream and kick. But instead they glared hatred at each other, each wishing they could throw a firebolt at the other.

Gwen broke the contact first, she had to, or else she might have strangled him.

She stormed away, so much fury had been uncovered inside her. She went back to the tents, she had been so blinded by her rage that she ran straight into Daveth.

Before, she would have taken her anger out on killing things, but she didn't have that option. She certainly wouldn't kill the people she would be fighting with the next night, and the gate to the wilds was locked tight.

This anger needed to be vented. Had to be.

Daveth sensed her anger and asked what was wrong, and of course added in a sexual innuendo; it was just his personality.

What happened next was not what he had been expecting.

She grabbed him violently by the collar, as though she were about to choke him. But instead she...kissed him. Not because she had some burning passion for him. In fact, she had no lust for _him_. But the fire inside her demanded to be thrown.

Daveth smiled mischievously, saying nothing but guiding her to his tent. He had hoped he would find someone to lay with the night before battle, and he had almost given up hope. After what he had seen during his joining he had realized just how close to death everyone was. He wanted to at least live a little before he potentially died.

Gwen, well, she wasn't exactly what he wanted. He didn't think she was pretty or attractive in anyway, she was much to skinny for that, but he was a desperate man.

He was Gwen's first that night, although she had no intention of telling Daveth that. She took control, even though she had no idea what she was doing, she knew what she wanted. And what she wanted...was to be sated.

With all her energy expended, her rage died down, and she was able to get a few hours of dreamless sleep before the next sun arose.

 _IXI_

The next day had been in a haze.

Fergus was nowhere to be seen in the morning, when Gwen had asked after him they told her that he'd gone back to his scouting party in the wilds. Gwen wondered if she had been too harsh on him, if she had accidentally made an enemy out of him. She wondered if he was going to die in the battle, if she herself might die.

 _Don't be stupid. You've come this far and you passed your joining. You're not going to die._ Gwen told herself. Whatever happened to Fergus is wasn't her concern any longer.

The entire day had been spent preparing for the battle to come. Everyone was rushing about, servants, soldiers, mages, priests, and even the mabari seemed as though they had somewhere to be.

All Gwen wanted to do was go back to sleep. _Ugh, on second thought._ She had no desire to go back into a tent with Daveth. She wouldn't go as far as to say the night was enjoyable. But it had sufficed for her need.

She had woken up far earlier than he, and had no intention of sticking around to talk about what had occurred. _I hope he doesn't think that one night will turn into more._ The last thing she needed was some idiot following her around.

 _Don't get cocky Gwendolyn, you're not pretty or curvy. Being with you is probably the last thing on his mind. You simply used each other that night for your own purposes._ She agreed with herself, she wasn't beautiful like Solona or Alistair. What could she give to anybody? Not that she wanted to of course...

The kennel master had been extremely grateful for the flower, although Gwen was left disappointed when he had nothing to give her. She waved it off, after all it was just a flower.

Before anyone knew it, the hour before the battle had come. And one last meeting was to be held.

Following the giant white stone stair case to the left, on a very old oak table, lay plans for battle and miniature figurines for tactics. Surrounding the table were men of war, prestige, and magic, and the mother herself from the Chantry.

The King demanded he be on the front lines with the Wardens, even when Teryn Loghain advised him not to.

Gwen recalled that Teyrn Loghain had been close friends with the King's late father and mother, Maric and Rowan.

Duncan had yet to tell the new Wardens what their roles would be in the battle, it seemed that this meeting would decide that.

"What about the Tower of Ishal? We can send a team up there and light a beacon for Loghain's troops." Cailan suggested, showing his tactical skill.

"Excellent call your Majesty," the mage interjected, "We can send a group of mages to-"

"We'll have none of your hand in this, for all we know your mages could turn into abominations at any second," The Chantry Mother interrupted the mage. She didn't want mages taking too much credit for helping in the war, least a revolt take place.

"What about two of our new Grey Wardens? Alistair and Solona would suffice, would they not your Majesty?" Duncan volunteered the two Wardens.

"Wait, don't we have a say in this?" Alistair protested, he wanted to be on the front lines fighting with Duncan. Where he belonged.

"No. It is up to the King to decide." Duncan stated.

"Yes, Duncan, if you believe it's a good idea, I trust your judgment. We shall have the other two Wardens Gwen and..." Cailan gestured over to Daveth.

"Daveth, your Majesty."

"Yes. They shall join the other senior Wardens in battle as planned," King Cailan had decided their roles for them, and whether they liked it or not they had to follow them.

Loghain gave Gwen a strange look, it reminded her of how Duncan had looked at her just a few nights prior. Gwen had returned his stare with a questioning face. It seemed as if Loghain had been lost in thought. When he realized that Gwen had noticed his staring he immediately shifted his attention onto the King.

"This meeting is adjourned," The King announced.

These were their final moments before battle. Before all chaos broke loose.

Duncan had them gather around the center of camp once again, giving each and every one of them a fatherly gaze.

"I'm not to join you?" Alistair asked Duncan in a quiet, disappointed voice.

"After the beacon is lit we'll need you back down here. You'll join me then Alistair, for now follow the orders your King has given you." Duncan reassured him.

Duncan placed his heavy hand on Gwen's shoulder, he frowned and regarded her as though it were the last time they'd see each other, "Fight to live Gwen. Survive."

She didn't understand what he meant. Of course she was going to fight to live. Of course she was going to try and survive. What did he mean?

"Solona. You're a strong woman. Don't let your past affect the now," Solona nodded at him. She was fearful to speak, that her voice would give her away. But she was stronger than that and she knew it.

She cleared her head and focused on the task at hand. Living. "Right now all that matters is winning this war." Her voice did not brake, she was confident even in the face of death.

Gwen wanted to say more, to ask more. But their time was up. The sound of the horn called them all to their positions.

The time for war was _now_. The time to stand and fight for Fereldan was _now._ The time to end the Blight was _now._

 _IXI_

Gwen remembered lining up next to her fellow Wardens. All of them tense, yet ready. The arrows were let loose, then the mabaris, then...it was their turn. They charged as a whole unyielding mass of pride. Every single soldier had pride in the country and would fight for it, to their death.

Every second Gwen spent down there in that valley, fighting to survive, fighting to end the Blight, felt like an eternity. Men and woman were slain where they stood.

This killing was so much different from what she had experienced in Highever. Here, people fought with their dignity and their honor. It was odd, Gwen thought. The concept of honor.

She was torn between fully focusing on survival, or killing. She felt a need to kill every last darkspawn she saw, as though it had personally hurt her. But she knew that train of thought would get her killed, she had to force herself to back off of the kills she knew she wouldn't get.

All the carnage around her empowered her blood lust, thrilling her like she never had before. She didn't have much experience fighting, but her sheer will to win kept her alive.

Hours passed and they were losing ground, Gwen looked up searching for the beacon of light that would save them. She spotted it within seconds, the tower had been lit, and yet Loghain's soldiers did not come.

She waited and fought more. Their line was falling, they were dying.

Loghain's soldiers did not come.

Gwen stopped amidst the fighting, it was like time had stopped for her. People were statues, frozen. Their pure emotions exuded from their face.

Primal. Honor. Survival. Then submission, hopelessness, death.

Gwen turned to see the giant ogre rip through their soldiers, shattering the delicate statues of glass.

The glass, their blood, flew onto her, awakening her from her paralyzed state.

She sharply gasped, _Duncan!_

There he was. Dead. Next to the king's red and gold disfigured body. The ogre lay beside him, Duncan's swords already plunged deep into its chest.

Her will to win was gone. Her desire to kill the dark spawn greater than ever to avenge Duncan, but even stronger her desire to live. As Duncan asked her to.

She ran. Past the dead and dying soldiers. Past the Wardens, and the mages. And as she ran, everyone around her died.

Arrows were flown into their throats, hearts still beating were taken out of their chests. The most evil and strongest of the dark spawn had made it deep into the camp, and she watched as the servants' throats were slit, as the priests prayed only to be cut down by the approaching monsters.

Her throat was burning, her thighs were on fire, her wounds stabbed and fired at her every time she took a step. But she didn't care. She didn't care about anything.

She ran to the north, adrenaline pumped through her blood, her heart beat so fast it felt as though it might have exploded. She collapsed of exhaustion when she could go no further. She breathed in the dirt as she hyperventilated, her high pitched gasps of near suffocation were deaf to her own ears.

She laid there for a few minutes, unsure if she'd made it far enough. But she was not safe yet. She was far from safe.

She pushed herself back up onto her legs, falling back down the first few times, but she finally managed to control herself.

She felt her side as she slowly made her way forward; she was bleeding. She held up her own hand and marveled at how her own silk rubies shined in the moon light.

She pressed her hand back into her side, desperately trying to hold back the flood gates of her demise.

Looking behind her she saw just how far she had run, she could still see Ostagar but only it silhouette in the dark night.

She wandered aimlessly forward, hoping someone would find her.

Instead, she walked head first into a stone wall. She yelped and jumped back, regretting her action immediately as her wound bit back at her.

 _Structure!_ She thought. _There must be someone near by!_

"Hello?!" She called out into the darkness, "Is someone there? Please help me!"

"I'm right here," A gruff voice answered back, out of the shadows appeared a large man who's muscles were built like...stone... "You ran into me you done did!" He looked at her with suspicion, "Who're you?"

"I..." Gwen searched for the right answer, "I bring important news from Ostagar, I must reach the nearest village as soon as possible!" She groaned in pain, "But first, please, I will not last much longer..."

"Ostagar you say? Aye. We'll help you. My wife can sew you up, come with me," He waved for her to follow him.

She gladly did, but before she took another step forward, her knees faltered and she fell helplessly into the cold ground.

Her vision blurred and relinquished, leading her slowly back into her black abyss she had been at not so long ago.

 **A/N: With Thanksgiving break ending I won't be able to write as much as I have been recently. But don't worry! I will continue the story, but the updates won't be as numerous.**


	7. Chapter 7: Adaptation

Chapter 7: Adaptation

The smells of herbs and the feeling of warm steam washed over Gwen's face. She crushed her eyes together, blocking the incoming light that lit up her eyelids. She brought her hand up to her head, hoping to stop the dull ache there.

"You awake?" A feminine voice with a country accent said her.

"Hmmghmm," Gwen groaned.

"You were close to death, you're lucky my husband found yah when he did." The woman came closer, placing a wet cloth on Gwen's forehead.

"Yes...lucky," Gwen said sarcastically.

"Better that than dead."

"Very true," Gwen let out a sigh. She sat up, holding the cloth in place, and forced her eyes open.

The room was small. There was a fire place in the corner, that had been the source of invading light, and a stove in the other corner.

These people were definitely peasants. Not that Gwen had any room to judge. They had saved her life after all.

"Gill said you're down from Ostagar. Lot of smoke comin' from that direction...my son...he was a soldier there. You bring news?" The woman asked hopefully.

Gwen shook her head, unsure of what to say to the woman. She decided the partial truth might be best, "Ostagar has fallen. The darkspawn defeated our forces...the king...is dead. I have a good reason to believe it was the Teryn of Gwaren that betrayed him. Last night, before my commander fell to the horrid beasts, he ordered me to escape to Denerim to inform the capital." Gwen had added in the last part in hopes that the couple would help her get to the capital.

"My son...is dead?" She said it disbelieving and full of sadness.

"Unless he escaped...then yes...he is dead." Gwen gave her a few moments to mourn, but she had her own agenda to attend to, "Please if you could help me get to the nearest town, I could help prevent the grief for other mothers that you are feeling now."

The woman had started crying, but nodded her head in agreement,

"Yes, no one should have to lose a child...there's a town north of here. Only an half a day's journey. Lothering, it's called. You should be able to find a caravan heading to Denerim from there."

"Thank you for this," Gwen rose from bed dressed in the under clothes of her armor. She felt vulnerable, being without a defense. Her wound had been wrapped tightly around her, and no longer hurt. Probably due to the herbs.

"I must leave for Lothering as soon as possible. Where is my armor?" Gwen looked about the room in a vain attempt to locate her armor.

"They were soaked in blood when we found yah, I took it out to wash this mornin'. Should be dry by now. I'll go get it now."

"And my weapons?"

"In that chest there," The woman pointed to a chest at the far end of the room that Gwen had previously missed.

Gwen kneeled by the chest, as soon as the woman left the room, Gwen threw the latch off and blindly took out the chest's contents.

She had been worried that the couple had taken her precious weapons to sell off at the market. But, relieving Gwen of her fears, the couple remained honest peasants.

They had not taken her new friend.

She held up her poisoned dagger, unsheathed it, and admired how the flames of the fire reflected in it.

Then, she checked to make sure she still had the antidote. The bottle was nestled comfortably in her small deep purple pouch. She drew the golden strings to a close, and nearly organized the rest of her weapons on the floor.

Not too long after the woman returned with Gwen's leather armor. It still looked rough around the edges...but clean.

Gwen dressed quickly and without words. She armed herself, feeling safe under her armor and weapons. She didn't feel as vulnerable and weak.

Gwen hated feeling weak.

"Before yah leave, take this," The woman handed her a parcel of bread and cheese.

"You are very kind," Gwen accepted the gift, "but I must be off now."

Before leaving the little farm house for good, Gwen had a pang of guilt. She hadn't really told these people what they were up against.

For some reason Gwen felt the need to warn them, even if she didn't know them. She wrote it off as her paying them back for her life.

"The darkspawn are coming north. There's no telling exactly when or how many...but...they will destroy everything in their wake. For your own safety, flee this farm. Continue your life somewhere far away from here. The Blight is here. And right now, we have no way to stop it."

"Thank you for the warnin' dear and I understand the danger. But...we won't leave our home. It's all we have left, and I've no wish to leave it."

 _Foolish._ Gwen thought, dissipating any feeling of guilt. _They rather die stubborn than live._ She had tried to warn them. If they died it would not be on her conscious.

She left the farm on a steady but fast walk. She spied Gill, the woman's husband, working in the fields.

Gwen shook her head, not able to comprehend why the couple would want to stay.

People were confusing. They had honor and loyalty, yet were also stubborn and blind. All of those qualities can lead to an early death.

In some small way, Gwen understood why people die for their country; for many other people. But for each other? One person sacrificing themselves for another? The thought seemed ridiculous to her.

Sure, she had the capability to respect people. But not to die for them.

On the battlefield, it had been about killing the darkspawn not necessarily saving everyone around her.

Yes, she had told the farm woman about saving people's lives, but that was mainly for sympathy's effect to get the woman to help her.

Gwen continued her ponderings all the way to Lothering.

She was stopped abruptly by the sight of a group of well armed bandits. They were blocking the bridge to Lothering!

She pondered the thought of avoiding them, but she calculated it would add an extra hour to her journey. The sun was already starting to fall; she could not afford that delay.

She approached the bandits with confidence. They would either think she's crazy...or very very dangerous.

She was small and thin. A fragile looking creature. But the way she strode up to them denied that fact. It was a new and bewildering sight to the bandits.

"I would suggest you let me pass," Gwen rose her voice to give her a more full presence.

In reality, she was terrified, her insides felt as though they were held together by thin threads, and they were ready to snap.

The bandits laughed in Gwen's face, "You? We should let you pass?" A man approached from the back of the group, revealing himself to be the leader, "Either you're stupid or blind. It's five against one, little girl."

Images of darkspawn filled her mind reminding her if what she was running from, "I've faced danger that you couldn't even imagine...and survived," Gwen held her ground.

Again he laughed incredulously, "I doubt you could even kill a rabbit, let alone a man."

At this Gwen burst out laughing. _Oh how little he knows._

Her laughter seemed to unnerve the bandits. How could a little girl like her be laughing in the face of men who could kill her if they wanted?

"What was your plan? Hmm? Kill me and loot my body? All that innocent blood on your hands… I wonder how you've been able to live with it." Gwen taunted them.

"We've had people pay a toll to get across the bridge, as you'll be paying. No toll, no pass. We have to reinforce that sometimes. I don't regret any blood that I've shed." The bandit leader stood taller than her, trying to scare her into submission.

She had allowed him to slowly get closer and closer to her. And now, was her chance.

Without the bandits realizing it, she had drawn her dagger and hid it up her sleeve.

"Now, little girl, what are you going to give to us?" The underlying meaning made Gwen snarl in disgust.

She dashed forward, taking her dagger to his throat. She whirled him around to face his cretin friends, her dagger pressed against his skin.

"Your death," she whispered in his ear, "If you don't allow me to pass right now."

The bandits had been so shocked that they scarcely believed what was happening.

Their leader taken down by a...girl.

She knew that she wouldn't have much time before the rest of the bandits lost respect for their leader.

She had to act quickly.

"The rest of you! Drop your weapons...or else," She growled.

The bandits compiled in a haze, staring with wide eyes back at her.

"Move!" She commanded them.

She pushed the leader forward and the men split to let her pass. She hurried through the vulnerable situation.

This all happened in a matter of seconds. But to Gwen and the bandits it could have been a whole day.

The leader had whimpered and gasped, but said nothing, for the pressure of her dagger was great.

Gwen had taken notice that none of the bandits had bows, so if she tried to run they couldn't attack her from afar.

She had reached the end of the bridge, and by this point the bandits had gathered together and started talking.

Gwen knew her time was up, bandits didn't have loyalty like soldiers did.

"You know you can't go back there. They'll kill you if you do," Gwen stated to the ex-leader.

His face revealed that he did know the consequences of losing. He would have to run just as she would have to.

They continued walking forward with Gwen's dagger at his throat. The bandits had not gone after them. As Gwen predicted, they lost interest in their leader's life.

They had gone far past the bridge. But Gwen hadn't thought of a plan to prevent the ex-leader from attacking her the moment she let him go.

She didn't necessarily want to kill him, but she would if she had to.

"My name is Lieth, not that that will matter for much longer."

Gwen was confused and curious at the same time. His tone and countenance had changed completely from the man he had been just a few minutes prior.

He had been a confident strong, yet criminally disgusting man. Now he was submissive and weak, and still somehow more open and accepting.

 _He needed humility._ He had been so used to being the top dog, that he had grown arrogant and stupid.

She had reminded him of human folly and mortality.

 _People adapt so quickly to their situation._ _Other people...our experiences. It has such an immediate effect on us._

"Why were you there?" Gwen asked Leith.

"To take advantage of the Blight of course. Best looting time I'm told," His deflection with sarcasm surprised Gwen. He didn't seem the witty type.

Gwen wasn't satisfied with his answer, "Why were _you_ there?"

Leith sighed and let himself delay what he thought would be death, "The town that I came from… there was a group- a gang really. My father was the leader. When he died it was left to me...I never wanted it...but I had to act strong for my mother and sister. I had to keep them safe. And being the "Tainted" leader was the best way to do that...until the Blight came. The village blamed us, because of our name. They came in the night with fire and pitchforks, a real mob, and killed my mother...my sister escaped but...I haven't seen her since. They drove us out of town, only five of us survived this far. We...they...were angry with me. I managed to convince them they needed me. But… I'm not like them,"

Gwen listened to his tale, but kept in mind he could be lying to her to garner sympathy. His story did make her want to spare him...but that could be exactly what he was intending.

She kept her body very still, not letting herself become vulnerable to attack, "I'm sorry you had to go through that. I'm glad I didn't kill you." She let him think that she believed his story...for now.

"I don't want to kill you, you don't want to kill me. Why not let me go?" Leith tried to persuade her.

"No." Gwen firmly said, "I don't trust you."

Suddenly Gwen had an idea. She could take him to Lothering. There, he wouldn't be able to betray her because of guards.

"We're going to Lothering like this. I'll let you go there. Besides, it can't be far now." She could see thin trails of smoke coming from the near distance. Smoke that was unmistakable for chimneys.

"Lothering? No, no, no. You can't take me there!" Leith protested.

"What? Why not?

"The people that came through the bridge, the ones we made pay the toll. They were on their way to Lothering. If I go there they'll arrest me!"

Gwen realized that Leith would fight her if she tried to make him to to Lothering. She had to think of something else.

For the first time, she let go of him, her arm felt an enormous relief; it had started to cramp up for being help up for so long.

He didn't jump back and try to run. He didn't scream, or try and steal her weapon. Instead, he did nothing. He trusted her to not kill him.

This surprised Gwen. How could a total stranger trust her? Especially one she had threatened to kill several times.

She looked at him cautiously, for she didn't not trust him, "Here take this," She threw at him a large piece of dark green cloth, " Use it as a hood to cover your face."

"Why are you helping me?" Leith took the hood unwarily.

"Would you rather me kill you?" Gwen evaded the question.

Leith was silent for a moment, then he said, "I'm sorry for earlier...about what you could do for us...I didn't mean it. I just said it to look tough in front of them."

Gwen remembered his lewd suggestion. It was a reassuring thought that he wouldn't have gone through with it, if things had turned badly for her.

Leith didn't seem like a bad person and everything he said matched up with his actions. But still…

"I could also ask you...why didn't you try and run when I let you go?" Gwen asked.

He laughed, "I believe that wouldn't have ended very well for me. I plan on living, or at least I hope to."

"I also plan on living, so excuse me if I seem...distrustful," Gwen was passive aggressive, but she didn't trust people easily.

"You're a lot smarter than I am then, I'm pretty trusting...maybe too much for my own good..." Leith frowned, recalling a memory.

Gwen stopped, bringing Leith out of his own thoughts, "We're here."

Leith had put on the hood, and pulled it over his head. Although a bit ominous, you couldn't see his distinct features.

"Where do you plan on going?" Gwen suddenly didn't want him to leave. Then she'd be alone.

The hood turned to her, "I'm not completely sure actually," he chuckled.

Gwen hesitated, and bit her lip in contemplation, soon she tasted blood. _He seems honest...but that's just the problem, he seems!_ She weighed the pros and cons of asking him to stay with her.

Leith broke her train of thought, and surprised her once again, "You seem like an alright person, and if it's okay I'd like to stay with you for a while. Seems like the safest option," He smirked and scratched his neck nervously, turning it red.

He had practically made her decision for her, and she was okay with it.

She pretended she was thinking about his offer, rubbing her chin and narrowing her eyes, "Fine. But I still don't trust you."

He bowed low, barely containing his light-hearted laughter, "I shall follow you to the ends of Thedas and back. I will fight by your si-"

Gwen scoffed, "Oh shut up," she pulled Leith to his feet; his snickering became louder, "Let's go to the tavern," she said.

She didn't wait for him to compose himself. She knew he would follow.

"Not a humor girl are you? Well I amuse myself," He yelled after her, trailing behind her.


	8. Chapter 8: In a Time of Darkness

Chapter 8: In a Time of Darkness and Death

Lothering was filled with refugees. People were fleeing north from the Blight, from the monsters that had ruined their life and killed their loved ones. The people there were hungry and desperate; the look they held in their eyes haunted Gwen.

They had reached out to her, grabbed her legs and pulled on her sleeves like begging children. She had pushed them away, the feeling of their bony hands still crawled over her body.

The refugees had stayed away from Leith. They looked upon him with suspicion, but no one spoke out. His hood darkened his face, making his figure look dangerous.

The refugees had nothing left, except for their slowly dwindling life. They would not risk that at the hands of revenge.

Upon entering the tavern, the overpowering smell of piss and alcohol abused their senses.

The tavern was clamoring with people, bodies were crammed against each other just to reach the counter for another bottle of booze.

It was hot and humid, making it even harder to breath with the smell. Gwen did not like it in there, in fact she almost preferred to be outside with the refugees...almost.

Gwen looked over to Leith, whose features were dimly lit by the fireplace's flames, wondering what he was thinking of all this.

Her eyes widened. _He is utterly crazy_ , she thought.

Leith was grinning, from ear to ear. His yellowed teeth bit his bottom lip to keep him from bursting.

"What in the Maker's name is so funny?" Gwen demanded. How could he be joyful in such a disgusting place?

He pointed over to the fireplace where a group of men were circled around telling stories and drinking, "Tell me, what do you see?"

Gwen was puzzled, but answered his question anyway, "I see a lot of disgusting shit faces talking about their last conquest of a woman. I see alcohol in their hands, sloshing and staining their clothes. I see that one of them is going to fall into that fire place if they keep acting like fools."

Leith raised an eyebrow to her blatant pessimism, but his smile didn't stop, "I see friends gathered around in a time of darkness and death, sharing a drink and laughing with each other. It might be the last time they experience any joy or fun before they die. These are uncertain times," he turned to Gwen, "I'm smiling because they're smiling. If you keep frowning and complaining about how much life has gone wrong, then of course it'll never get better!"

Gwen rolled her eyes, "Great, an optimist."

"You should try it some time. A smile would look more lovely on you than that scowl," Leith slapped her shoulder playfully.

His comment only earned an even deeper scowl from Gwen. She shrugged off his hand, "Let's see if there's any rooms here."

They struggled and fought, and Gwen could have sworn someone grabbed her behind, but they made it to the front of the counter. She couldn't help but feel slightly defiled.

The bartender looked weary, keeping a mob of drunk people at bay wasn't easy, "Ar'yah gonna buy a drinkr'what?"

"Actually, we were looking for-" Gwen's voice suddenly felt very high pitched compared to everyone around her.

"No room!" The bartender's gruff voice shouted at her.

Leith stepped forward, drawing the hood further down. In his most intimidating voice he said, "I'm sure you can find a room for the two of us, isn't that right?"

Gwen wasn't sure how Leith did it, but the bartender paled and nodded. He discreetly handed them a key to the upper rooms.

As soon as they had gotten back through the crowd, Leith was back to his old self, "See that wasn't so hard was it?"

"How did you do that?" Gwen asked.

"The hood, it must be magical," He smirked.

"Must be," Gwen almost smiled back, but caught herself before the traitorous smile gave her away.

The room was small...too small. There was one bed and one chest. One door and one window.

That was it.

Before Gwen had a chance to say anything Leith threw himself onto the floor, "I call this spot!"

Gwen scoffed, "You're ridiculous. You know people have probably vomited on that floor?"

Leith shrugged and slid his hand across the floor, inspecting the dust, "Seems clean enough to me."

"You're ridiculous," Gwen said again, but the hint of a laugh could be found underneath.

Gwen looked out the window, the spreading view of Lothering met her gaze. _What am I doing here?_ Gwen wondered. _To get to Denerim. But what am I going to do there? The Wardens are all dead._

"Are you alright?" Leith asked. He noticed her staring sadly out the window.

"I'm fine," Gwen responded curtly.

There was a second of silence before Gwen announced, "I'll be at the Chantry. Don't follow me."

He gave her an arched look but didn't push her for information.

Gwen easily found the Chantry, it was the biggest building around, and to refugees, the most important.

Gwen maneuvered past the crowds of people. She hadn't been to a Chantry since Highever…

Just as it was outside, the inside was packed. People were praying, eating, and sleeping. Gwen was surprised the Chantry had enough food to feed that many refugees.

Gwen found a spot in a pew close to the front of the room. The golden statue of Andraste looked down upon her from the platform.

Gwen didn't know what she wanted to say, of course she wanted to say _something_ but words escaped her.

 _I need your guidance...Do I stay here, or do I go to Denerim? I wonder at all if I'm supposed to be here. Please! Tell me what to do! I realize I've become...a different person than I used to be, but I can still carry out your divine will. Send me a sign…_

Gwen rose from the pew, light headed. She looked back at Andraste who was no longer frowning at her, but held a look of suspended judgment. She would wait and see what Gwen did next.

Back outside Gwen noticed two figures arguing by a merchant's caravan. One was a woman with bright red hair, wearing a Chantry Sister robe, the other a scheming man.

Gwen inched closer to eavesdrop on their conversation.

The woman had a strong Orlesian accent and seemed to be very upset at the merchant, "These prices are killing the poor! You bought their bread not just a week ago, now you're selling it at a ridiculous price? No, you must stop this or else everyone else will starve! You can't sell to the dead."

The merchant was annoyed and infuriated at the Sister. He took notice of Gwen as she slowly approached them, "You there!" He called to her.

Gwen looked behind her, almost certain he was talking to someone else. But no, he was indeed motioning to her. He waved her over again.

He walked to the back of the caravan, whispering his deal to her, "I'll give you a discount on all my items if you can get rid of that cow." His breath smelled like decayed worms.

Gwen almost gagged on his words before stepping back, "I'm unimpressed, only a discount? Surely your scam has made more than enough money. I expect silver."

He hissed loudly in surprise, "Silver?! I'll pay you copper, no more."

"Then we're done here." Gwen walked away, happy to leave the smelly man.

But of course, the Sister also wanted her help, "You didn't agree with him did you? You saw him for the scum he is, yes?"

Gwen could tell where the woman was going, "Scum? Yes. But it was simply a matter of payment. The bastard wasn't willing to pay for my help, even though I'm sure he has enough to."

"Money?" The woman looked disappointed, "I've given all I have to the refugees, I'm afraid all I can repay you in is gratitude."

"Gratitude? I'm afraid that's not going to get me what I want. I need _money_ not the appreciation of a-" Suddenly a thought hit Gwen. This woman was a _Chantry_ Sister.

Gwen felt shameful and embarrassed, Andraste wouldn't want her to be selfish or callous. She walked back over to the merchant, not fully responding to the woman's request.

"Have you reconsidered my offer?" The merchant smirked, he thought he had won.

"You need to stop." Gwen demanded of him.

He laughed, everyone always laughs, "The reason I asked for your service was because I thought a woman could convince a woman, you know? But you trying to intimidate me right now?" He laughed louder, "This is just...ahaha...you're so small and pitiful looking," He pointed at her, his other hand clutching his stomach from laughter.

Gwen's cheeks burned furiously, "You think these weapons are for show?" She pulled out her dagger.

The man's loud outburst had started to amass a crowd, Gwen hadn't noticed. Her anger tunnel visioned on the man, "You are a disgusting pig. I could kill you right now. I order you to stop this scam, or leave!"

The man had stopped laughing, his face darkened, "What are you? Some self-righteous bitch? I have connections with the templars, I can turn you in...blood mage."

"Connections?" Gwen played with her dagger idly, "Hmmm, let's see. If you're dead, then I won't have to worry about that, will I?" She pointed her dagger at him, threateningly.

"What's going on here?" A voice echoed through iron amour. A templar.

"Oh, thank the Maker you're here!" The man faked an innocent voice, "This woman...she's...she's a blood mage!"

There was a gasp and cry from the crowd and the templar swirled to face her, the trigger word had been spoken.

"Wait, no! He has it wrong! I'm not a blood mage for crying out loud!" Gwen pleaded.

The man scrambled away from her, "She was about to kill me and use my blood for her twisted magic! Just look at her dagger!"

Gwen didn't have a chance to defend herself when the templar pounced onto her. They wrangled each other, heads were shoved into the dirt, and arms were broken, but the fight was lost for Gwen before it had even begun. Templar reinforcements came. They bound and dragged her into the Chantry.

Her body tumbled across the stone cold floor as they flung her to the feet of the Chantry's Revered Mother.

The Revered Mother cast a condemning gaze at her, "Set her up in a cage, by the giant. Let the Maker decide her fate."


	9. Chapter 9: Like Children They Played

Chapter 9: Like Children They Played

At the words of the Revered Mother, the templar bashed Gwen in the back of the head. She was out cold; her body limp against the floor. Anyone could have easily mistaken her pale skin and thin figure for a corpse.

The cage was iron and rusted and smelled of rat droppings. It was smaller than a normal cage, more similar to a dog's kennel.

They threw her on top of the dirt and hay in the tiny cage, disregarding her head wound.

There was another cage next to Gwen's. It was taller and its occupant a giant of a man.

Although, it was hard to call him a man at all. He had grey hair, knotted into rows that traveled up his head like snakes. His jaw was hard and square, his eyes small and sharp.

The most striking feature, was that he had two horn-like stumps protruding from his head.

"Maker...oh...what?" Gwen mumbled, finally awaking from her violent slumber.

Gwen's eyes widened in a panicked state at her surroundings.

She flew upward, smacking her head into the metal bars. A red welt formed in the middle of her forehead, and she fell unconscious again.

The next time she awoke it was night; the stars and moon were her only source of light. The spots of unrusted metal twinkled and reflected in that light.

Gwen felt suffocated and trapped, the hay prickled and poked at her. Rashes had formed on the bare parts of her skin.

Gwen sucked in the stale and dirty air, and screamed. She screamed to the moon and the stars. To the Maker and to anyone that was listening.

"Parshara!" a voice yelled at her, booming over her.

Gwen's scream was halted to a stop by the voice, "Who said that? If you're out there, please let me out! I'm not a blood mage! That stupid fetcher lied to you!"

"I cannot let you go," the deep voice answered back.

"Please, I can't be here. I can't die! I have to...I have to leave." Gwen pleaded.

She looked around searching for the face of the voice, but the darkness consumed all.

"What's your name, Ser?" Gwen asked, hoping the person would not leave her.

"I am Sten of the Beresaad. They said you're a blood mage," Sten said.

Gwen wondered what the Beresaad was but felt the need to defend herself first, "I'm not a blood mage, I've been falsely accused!"

"That's what a blood mage would say," Sten replied stoically.

Gwen was frustrated, "I'm not a blood mage! Just...let me out of this cage please!"

"I cannot," he said again.

"Why?!" Gwen raised her voice, irritated.

"I am locked within this cage, and await my death."

"Cage? You're in a cage as well?" Gwen said angrily. _Why didn't he say that earlier? Making me plead like a dog._

Gwen realised she was on all fours, leaning her face towards the icy bars, as though they would somehow disappear.

Suddenly disgusted with herself she laid down, exhausted from her yelling.

No one was coming to save her. No one.

IXI

 _Clink clink clink…_ a light tapping of metal against metal gently stirred Gwen awake.

"Psst, hey!" a voice hissed in the night, "Wake up, wake up."

The rusted metal creaked and groaned in resistance. A small yet calloused hand cupped Gwen's shoulder and shook her.

Gwen gasped awake, her eyes wide open.

"You're...the Sister from before." Gwen raised her hand and pointed at her, disbelieving.

The woman placed a finger over both their lips, gesturing to be quiet.

Behind her, a cough erupted the still night.

The Sister seemed surprised, but not panicked. She looked annoyed in fact.

"Sorry!" A familiar male voice whisper yelled.

"Be quiet!" Another familiar feminine voice whispered back.

"Why are we sneaking around in the night like thieves? I have not heard of Grey Wardens who sneak and hide," it was the voice of the man in the cage: Sten. He made no effort to conceal his loud and booming voice.

"We're trying to free a Grey Warden Sten. We're not stealing anything, just keep look out." Solona said authoritatively.

"Rrouf!" a mambari barked in agreement.

"You are all fools. All of you," a feminine voice arose.

"Ugh," the Sister groaned, "So much for being quiet."

The Sister pulled Gwen out of the cage. For the first time since The sun had set Gwen took in a breath of fresh air. Her lungs filled with cold and crisp air.

To Gwen's surprise, Morrigan of all people was standing with them. Looking very irritated at that.

Suddenly, the dog started to growl and Sten called out into the darkness, "Reveal yourself and you will be killed."

"Don't you mean or?" Alistair asked.

"No." Sten said simply.

"Scary," Alistair said, intimidated from Sten's cold warrior gaze.

"You can come out. We won't harm you unless you attack us!" exclaimed Solona.

A man in a dark green hood stepped forward, he raised his hands ominously. Every one became tense.

His hands went to his hood. It fell to his shoulders and revealed a young man with dirty blond hair and thick eyebrows.

"Leith!" Gwen shouted, surprised at the relieved sound in her voice. She was on her feet now, although no movement had been taken.

"You know him?" the Sister asked, wary of the man.

"Yes, well, no not really." Gwen thought about it. In reality they had only known each other for a few days.

"Not really?" Solona looked back to Leith.

"He's not going to attack us." Gwen hoped she had calmed Solona's suspicions.

The tension died down.

Leith walked over to Gwen, everyone stared at him as he passed. He had a half crooked grin when he said, "What'd you do this time?"

Gwen smiled, actually smiled, "Oh you know, just taking a nap."

"Hey, I won't judge you on where you decide to nap. But next time, you should let me know where." Leith's expression changed.

Gwen's brief moment of being light hearted had passed. Her smile was gone, just as it had came, "You shouldn't care. You barely even know me. And, why are you even out here?" She looked out at everyone, who was intently watching their exchange, "What are any of you doing here? I thought you were dead! And how did he," she pointed to Sten, "get out of his cage?"

A sudden burst of light and noise came from a nearby farm house.

"We need to leave now," Solona ordered everyone. Gwen refused to move, "Now!" Solona shouted at her angrily.

Gwen hated the fact that Solona was right, but then wasn't the time to have an argument.

She grabbed Leith's arm and ran.

Not too far out of town they encountered a small group of darkspawn attacking a dwarven caravan.

They dispatched them quickly but didn't stop to talk to the dwarves.

After they had ran a good mile away from Lothering, they stopped to rest.

Gwen wanted her answers.

"Solona." Gwen approached her.

She sighed, Gwen didn't have to ask, "I was hoping I could actually rest, but it seems you're persistent."

Gwen took offense at her comment, but instead of creating more conflict she said nothing.

"We arrived in Lothering yesterday afternoon. There was a commotion about something over by the Chantry, but we went to the tavern instead of investigating. That was my mistake I'm sorry. We might have prevented you getting locked up," Solona explained.

"But, how are you alive? Everyone at Ostagar...I saw them die."

"That's...a long story. The tower had been taken over by darkspawn, we fought our way to the top and lit the beacon. But...We were overtaken by the darkspawn. I also thought we were going to die but...You remember Flemeth? She saved us. The next thing Alistair and I knew, we were back in Flemeth's hut. She sent Morrigan to come with us... We have the treaties now. We _can_ stop the Blight. All it requires is gathering an army."

"Only an army? Pfft, at least it's not ancient golems hidden beneath the Deep Roads or something," Leith chimed in. He had been listening to their conversation.

Gwen glared at him for interrupting and eavesdropping. She turned back to Solona, "And what happened while you were in Lothering? How did you know I was there?"

"We were attacked in the tavern. That's when we met Leliana."

"Who?" Gwen asked.

"The Sister." Solona pointed to the red head.

"Her? And she's the one that told you about me?" Gwen remembered her at the merchant's caravan.

"We asked about what had happened earlier. She told us about you, and Alistair recognized your description. We went over by the cages, but you were asleep. Sten told us you had hit your head. Good job by the way," She said sarcastically and smirked.

"You try being locked in a cage too small! And about Sten, was it you that unlocked his cage?" Gwen asked.

"We got permission from the Revered Mother. Although when we brought up the topic of releasing you they were outraged," Solona's mambari had been resting at her feet, sleeping cozily.

"Because they thought I was a blood mage," Gwen grimaced. She forgot how zealous Templars could be. _I shouldn't have taken out my dagger, stupid stupid…_

"Exactly. But we couldn't leave a Grey Warden to die. There's only the three of us left in Ferelden. We...can't afford to die," the mambari perked it's head up at the mention of it's owner's death.

"Don't worry Chip, I'm not going to die. Not if I can help it," she patted the dog and scratched behind his ears.

"Chip?" Gwen asked, thinking the name was a bit ridiculous.

"Yes," Solona became defensive, "His name is Chip because that's what I chose. And he likes it too, isn't that right Chip?"

The dog barked in agreement.

Gwen fought the urge to roll her eyes, it was obvious that Solona was a dog person. Not that she hated dogs, but she wasn't fond of animals in general, considering she had killed so many.

"Hey," Leith drew Gwen's attention, "Could I talk to you privately?"

Gwen raised an eyebrow but followed him away from the camp nonetheless.

"You're not going to brutally murder me and run away with all my stuff are you?" Gwen said jokingly.

Leith didn't laugh, "I'd never do something like that."

"What? Leith I wasn't serious. I know you wouldn't. And even if you tried you wouldn't win," Gwen believed herself to be more skilled in combat than him.

"Oh really?" he smirked. He drew his weapons.

Gwen furrowed her eyebrows, "What are you doing?"

Then he dropped them to the ground and tackled her.

"What in the-" Gwen managed to say before the wind was knocked out of her.

They tumbled through the leaves and dirt, messing up and pulling at each other's hair.

They punched and kicked at each other, avoiding the face, until they were both tired and exhausted.

They had bruises covering them, and leaves stuck in their tangled hair.

Gwen plucked one out of her hair and threw it at Leith, "Look at this!"

He laughed and grabbed a fist full of leaves from the ground and smothered it in her head.

"Oh! I hate you!" Gwen shouted, throwing leaves back at him, and their little fight resumed.

"I yield! I yield!" Leith surrendered. Gwen had him pinned against tree with a hand full of leaves just calling to be smashed into his face.

For a moment Gwen considered ignoring his surrender, the taste of true victory was close.

Their eyes met and he could see straight through her. He realised that she wanted to hurt him, even if it was a game. He shook his head almost invisibly, as to say don't.

Gwen was frozen for a second in time. Listening to the voices in her head that said to do it, that violence was worth the rush. But looking into Leith's brown eyes, he disarmed her. She had no reason to hurt him.

She disengaged, letting the crunchy brown leaves float to the ground.

She turned away from him, not wanting to see his reaction, "What did you want to talk about in the first place?"

"You're a Grey Warden," he said bluntly.

She turned around to face him. He was leaning against the tree with his arms crossed. Where was this coming from? Did he have a problem with Grey Wardens? "I am."

"So you're going to stop the Blight with those other people. Risking your lives in the name of honor and justice," he said.

"That's a bit glorified. But yes, that's what I'm meant to do," she said.

"Meant to do? To possibly die for a cause I'm pretty sure you don't care for?" He looked up at her questioningly.

"You don't know what I care about, so don't pretend to," she crossed her arms.

"Why are you here? Those people," he pointed outwards, "Do they care about you?"

"What are you talking about?" Gwen's voice and temper rose, her face turning red.

"I don't even know your name!" Leith shouted at her.

Gwen's expression turned blank for a moment, realising she had never heard him say her name.

"It's Gwen…" she mumbled, looking to the ground.

"Gwen," Leith exhaled softly.

"I wondered why you were gone such a long time. I thought maybe you left Lothering… when I went to the Chantry I heard about a girl, a blood mage, being put up in the cages. A small part of me hoped it was you, and I felt bad for hoping it was you, but I didn't want to believe you left." He was standing straight in front of her, concern in his features, "I saw you… passed out or dead I didn't know...in that tiny cage in the dirt. And I was angry. I was angry that I wasn't there with you. Don't you see now?"

Gwen held her breath, confused at the feelings rushing through her brain. She nodded. He didn't want her to die, because he cared about her. He would blame himself if she died. Gwen couldn't comprehend why he would care about an ugly and hostile woman, without even knowing her name. But he did.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself, and broke the silence, "So you're going with them then? There's no changing your mind?"

"I have to," _It's what the Maker wants._ She finished in her head.

"I promised you I'd follow you to the ends of Thedas."

"Leith...you don't have to. You can leave." Gwen started. She didn't want to let him get attached to her.

"No. I won't leave. It's not like I have anywhere to go anyway," he smiled that half crooked smile that Gwen was becoming used to, "Staying with you sounds good."


	10. Battle at the Cliff

Chapter 10: Battle at the Cliff

Everyone stared at Gwen and Leith when they came back to camp. And what a sight they were.

Their clothes and hair were tousled; leaves, dirt and bruises covered their figures.

Gwen realised the implication, and presumptions, of the scene. She blushed a deep red, feeling singled out by the group.

Leith on the other hand, couldn't read the situation like Gwen could. He casually walked over to the fire and sat down, picking off leaves from his clothes and throwing them into the fire.

Leliana, the Sister, approached Gwen with a curious expression, "Are you and the bandit close?"

"Bandit?" Gwen asked.

"The man sitting over by the fire," Leliana nodded her head in Leith's direction, "Are you close?"

"Leith isn't a bandit," Gwen said, for some reason she felt the need to defend Leith.

Leliana raised an eyebrow, "The refugees have suffered because of him and his group."

Gwen thought about trying to explain to Leliana why Leith had done those things, but she decided it wasn't her place to share such information, instead she answered slightly irritated, "No, we're not close. I threatened to kill him when I first met him, and for some reason he wants to stick around."

Leiana nodded her head, not wishing to further anger Gwen. Gwen started at her as she turned her back. She was trying to figure out what Leliana was thinking. Was she judging her? Did she dislike her? Why was she being so nosy?

Gwen closed her eyes and made herself stop thinking about someone else's motives. She was tired, it had been a long day.

She had started her journey to Lothering early that morning, almost killed Leith at the bridge, almost _got_ killed by Templars, and met up with her fellow Grey Wardens...the ones she thought were dead.

Yes, it had been a long day indeed. Gwen took a heavy step across the dimly glowing camp. Alistair had set up a bed roll for her, since there weren't enough tents.

He was thoughtful, but Gwen felt uneasy around him. Every time she saw him, a foreign yet familiar feeling settled within her. She wanted to take that feeling and throw it in the nearest lake to drown.

Hesitantly, she slipped into the bed roll, removing only the outermost uncomfortable parts of her armor. She let her eyelids fall, ignoring the set of brown eyes watching her.

All of the day's events washed over her like a strong current. It pressed her down into the ground, clutching for stability against the waves. Images of the horde pouring over their forces in Ostagar plagued her dreams. Duncan was dead. The King of Ferelden was dead. Elissa. Bryce. Eleanor...Fergus?

Gwen had not thought of Fergus since their bad parting. A small part of her hoped that Fergus was alive, the other told her to not care. It said that he lied to her, wanted to use her for his own gain. He was lost, most likely dead. There was nothing Gwen could do, so why should she care?

Gwen tended to listen to this voice. It made the most sense, and it always put her first. _It_ cared about her.

Another violent dream tortured her mind. But she did not wake.

Outside of the Grey Warden's sleeping minds, the night settled and soon became dawn.

IXI

There was always something plain about his world, his life, his story.

It was too common. _He_ was common, in every way.

His death was near, he knew it. But the grim and sour end had not overtaken him yet.

At one point in his past life, it might have made him sad, but he strode onwards.

There was a light ahead, and he saw it. He wanted to reach out and grab it, but it was so far away. Forever he kept walking, creeping ever closer to the iridescent light.

IXI

"What do you call a man with no body and just a nose?" It was another one of Leith's dumb jokes that never ceased to annoy Gwen

Gwen sighed for the 50th time that day, "I don't know. What _do_ you call him?"

"Nobody nose!" Leith burst out laughing.

She looked at him with the same tired expression that she had given him all the other times.

"That one was actually pretty funny!" Alistair commented, cheerily.

"You are the only one here who thinks so, Alistair," said Morrigan, "But I suppose it makes sense. A fool's joke fit for a fool."

Gwen partially agreed with Morrigan, but she saw them more of annoying happy optimists than fools.

 _One and the same._ The voice sneered.

Their group of seven, plus the mambari, was making their way to Redcliff; Solona and Alistair had decided.

Gwen vaguely remembered Redcliff. She had been there to attend a "meeting of the families". The Couslands had been invited to dinner by the Arl of Redcliff. But that was so long ago, she doubted anyone would have remembered her.

"What do you suppose we do once we meet this Arl? How do you know he'll cooperate with us?" Morrigan asked Alistair. She was suspicious of political men it seemed.

Alistair gave her a funny look, "I know the Arl. He's a good man, he'll help us." Alistair's voice hinted at faltering.

Solona looked over at him, giving him a concerned glance. She knew something that the rest of them didn't.

"Let's hope you are right. But from past experiences, that isn't your forte," Morrigan ended the conversation by insulting Alistair as she usually did.

Gwen felt herself coming on with a headache. All this conversation was making her tired, people made her tired. She rubbed her temples and closed her eyes closing herself off from the world for a moment.

But sadly, a moment of peace was not possible for her. When she closed her eyes pictures of darkspawn and memories of the Cousland slaughter filled her empty vision.

Hours had already passed and the sun was beating down their necks. How much farther could Redcliff be?

After a great and exhausting hike up a hill, their destination could be seen down below by the lake.

But something was wrong. The town below looked...silent. An eerie feeling crept down Gwen's spine. She looked over to the others but no one seemed to notice the foul air that hovered above them.

Alistair was too busy talking to Solona to notice. Gwen wondered what could possibly be so important.

As they neared the town, a thin and pale man came running at them with desperation.

Gwen's suspicions had been confirmed.

Solona calmed the man with her smooth and persuading voice. She asked him what had happened.

The man babbled of nightmares and undead. Every night they crawled out of the castle to feast on them and add more numbers to their army.

Alistair was distraught, immediately asking of the Arl's health. But the man would not answer him, he was too frightened and too out of breath. He begged them for help, he said that they would all be dead by morrow's morning.

Alistair, still worried about the Arl, rushed after the man who gestured wildly for them to follow him.

"Alistair wait for us!" Solona called after him. She ran after him, her eyes never leaving his form.

The others had no choice but to follow their leaders.

Gwen resented the fact that Solona and Alistair had become their leaders. Solona in particular. Gwen also was a Grey Warden, why shouldn't she direct the group in saving the Blight as well?

Gwen decided she would remedy that later, she wouldn't let herself be ordered and strung around for long.

Redcliff village was...a depressing sight. Commoners everywhere were haunted and sickly, looking at the odd group like a starving pack of wolves.

Gwen's eyes landed on the Chantry, their house of refuge in their dark time.

The Chantry looked like it had gone through many battles. Blood stains marked deaths upon its cold stone walls.

Gwen had mixed feeling of this building. The Chantry had been forced on her, and took her away from her destiny. Yet...it was the house of the Maker's faithful. Even if they didn't always understand His message.

Inside the Chantry reminded Gwen of Lothering. People were clinging to the sides of the walls for their own space, woman and children cried of hunger and loss.

The Arl's brother was one of the few nobles left alive, and he was running the Chantry, hoping that they would make it through the next night.

When the Arl's brother caught sight of the armed strangers his countenance changed from that of exhaustion to one of renewed hope.

"Teagan!" Alistair called out. Waving his arms to catch his attention.

"Alistair? By the Maker is that really you? I hardly recognized you! The last time I saw you, you were much shorter and covered in mud! What brings you here?"

"We came to speak with Eamon. Is he here? What happened?" Their small happy reunion ended as Eamon was mentioned.

"Eamon is deathly ill, even the healers could not cure him. Isolde sent out knights to find a cure...but it is unlikely they will ever find it," As Teagan explained Alistair became more and more worried.

"What is this cure?" Alistair asked.

Teagan sighed, reluctant to answer, "Isolde believes that the Urn of Sacred Ashes will cure Eamon."

The Urn of Sacred Ashes...Gwen remembered reading about it many times. But she didn't believe in it's existence. It seemed too wonderful to be possible.

"The Urn?" Leliana spoke up.

"Indeed. But it won't matter even if it does exist. No one has been up to the castle since the attacks started. Eamon could be dead," Tegan said grimly.

"No." Alistair said, "He's not dead. We will reach him Tegan, I promise you."

"That is reassuring, but for now we must prepare for the battle tonight. If we can survive tonight I can help you get into the castle. Come with me, please, there is much to do."

IXI

The sun fell through the bottom of the horizon quickly as the party struggled to bring together the town.

The blacksmith was drunk, a young girl lost her brother, a warrior dwarf refused to fight for the town…

The moral of the people was low, so low that the Chantry gave out cheap sun burst amulets.

Gwen resented those amulets, they were lies. But...if it made villagers and soldiers fight better…she wasn't going to protest.

As the last shining ray slipped behind the cracked and hollow castle atop the hill, a sickly eerie green fog rolled out of the castle's gates.

The undead arose like nightmares and wrought upon the village with barred teeth and rusted metal.

Some fought for themselves, others for their families. Gwen fought for a reason she could not hold in her palm, it controlled her from the back of her mind like little kicks of energy.

People fell around her as they struggled to fend off the undead. An all too familiar scene to the battle of Ostagar.

The battle lasted until sunrise, finally ending as they were pushed up against the Chantry.

Alistair exchanged a look of relife with Solona, rushing over to her once the battle had ended.

"Solona! Are you alright?" Alistair scanned over her looking for wounds.

"I'm fine," she pushed off his hand, "I haven't forgiven you yet."

Alistair gave her puppy dog eyes, but Solona simply rolled her eyes. A hint of a forgiving smile crossed her features.

Most would smile at this cute scene, but not Gwen. She scoffed.

But the battle was won, and they remained alive. To Gwen, getting into the castle was a more pressing issue then Alistair's love life.


	11. Rage Against the Dying of the Light

Chapter 11: Rage Against the Dying of the Light

The group followed Teagan to the top of the hill facing the haunting castle. There was an old looking windmill. Gwen wasn't sure when the last time it had been used, maybe over a decade. Or perhaps the recent undead attacks aged the building into disarray.

Gwen had been gazing at the windmill for some time, not caring to pay attention to the boring conversation.

The shrill sound of a woman's voice barraged Gwen's ears. Gwen looked behind her for the first time, glaring at whoever the awful voice was coming from.

It was a skinny blonde woman, a lady of stature, Gwen assumed, by the way the woman held herself. Gwen had to stifle a laugh when she looked at her clothes. They were tattered and torn, with blood stains at the base. It was ironic the way she tried to seem powerful and collected, but her loose hair strands said otherwise.

And her voice...Gwen grimaced...she was Orlesian that much was true.

Gwen noticed a brief exchange of words between the shrew and Alistair, an unfortunate surprise to them both it seemed.

Isolde was the woman's name, and she was demanding that Teagan go up to the tower with her alone. Gwen scoffed, and Isolde gave her a dirty look. Gwen gladly returned one. Which, to Gwen's pleasure, shocked the awful woman.

This woman was in no place to be ordering us around, thought Gwen, how did she even get out of the castle in the first place? And why does she want to go back?

Gwen had her suspicions, but Teagan took the Grey Wardens aside and revealed his plan. He would leave with Isolde and they would sneak into the castle through the windmill through a secret passage.

"Oh I do love secret passages...:"Gwen said sarcastically to no one in particular.

Gwen looked at Teagan fully, he didn't look like a man who was ready to possibly lose his life, "You know that if you go with her you could die. Just look at her! How did she leave the castle? It's a trap, we both know that."

Teagan looked irritated at Gwen's comment, "Then I'll act as a distraction, in any case I have to go with her, I doubt whoever let her go will accept her coming back empty handed."

So Teagan walked with Isolde hurriedly back to the castle and the group went through the secret passage.

IXI

"Yuhck!" Leliana had stepped into Maker-knows what. She shook her foot hoping to remove the residue, "When will this tunnel end?" She said exasperatedly.

"Not much farther, I think I recognize this place ahead," Alistar commented pointing the way forward, "There should be some cells, then the exit."

They were in the dungeons, that much was clear, but the rotting smell of flesh wasn't just a coincidence.

The undead rose around them, surrounding them.

"Looks like another fight with Serah Bones," Leith called out as a skeleton leaped at him.

"Serah Bones?" Gwen questioned Leith immediately but didn't have time to listen to a response, she had her own Serah Bones to deal with.

Gwen dashed forward delivering a quick blow to its chest, her dagger slide across the boney chest, making a deep grove. It fell in between the skeleton's ribs, the pommel of the dagger was stuck behind the skeleton's chest.

"Maker-forsaken piece of shit." Gwen grimaced and looked up at the skeleton. If it had been a human fighting her she could imagine its smirking face, but it wasn't. It was an emotionless dead monster, animated by some evil magic. It doesn't feel pain or hesitation. And it would not hesitate in taking Gwen's life.

The skeleton took no time in capitalizing on Gwen's mistake. The skeleton's sharp claws, daggers in their own right, found their way into Gwen's side.

Gwen screamed, the pain was sharp and sudden causing Gwen to lose her breath.

Crimson blood seeped through her clothing and stained the skeleton's claws red.

"Gwen!" Leith yelled, the skeleton had stabbed her again in the side, and again and again, "GWEN!" He screamed, watching her die before his eyes.

 _No, this isn't right,_ Gwen thought to herself through the blood and pain, _I can't die to a mere skeleton! I'm the Maker's chosen! I have a destiny! I've survived greater pain, this is nothing compared to the Initiation. Nothing, nothing...nothing…_

Her vision went pure white, then black. She returned to a familiar place, her abyss. Echos of the outside world bounced back and forth, all of it was indistinguishable except for the screams.

It felt like she was under water, unable to speak or hear clearly. _I broke free once, I can do it again._ She searched for that pain, that sharp awakening, but it was gone. She realized her body was numb but her mind was untouched. She could think!

Gwen became scared, _how can I escape from this place without pain? Where is my party? Why are they not saving me?_

"Do not fear Gwendolyn," a deep fiery voice overtook the echos, "You will live. I will save you. You will save yourself. Unlike these pathetic excuses for humans, powerless, they need to remember their place. You are the chosen one, they are not. You should be the party's leader, not Solona. You have **so** much power. All you need to do is **unleash** it."

Gwen's soul was thrust back into her body, a wave of fire burst from within her, her inner rage boiled and turned the ground into molten rock.

The skeleton had long been vaporized, completely gone from existence, but the anger lingered. A storm of fire blanketed her, then...it died down like the wind.

Gwen had stopped bleeding, the fire and heat had closed her fleshly wounds and replaced it with with a molten material that had its veins glow.

Her sight came back to her; she saw all of her party staring incredulously at her, some in fear some in awe.

Her once boring brown eyes were the color of the Maker's Sun, of orange and yellow, of red.

Then that too, slowly faded back into the brown.

"Who are you?!" Solona yelled. It was a mixture of anger, fear, and confusion.

"What are you, would be the better question," Morrigan's voice was calm but her facial expression was estranged.

By that point Gwen had gone completely back to normal, she looked herself, even the molten material had disappeared and left normal skin and flesh in its place.

The rage and power lust that had consumed her was gone, and the insecure mean woman came back, "I don't know what happened! But I'm alive, that's all that matters. We still have a Blight to fight so stop looking at me like I'm a monster!"

"I saw the Maker's eyes in you," Leliana spoke, she looked deeply into Gwen's eyes, studying her.

"The Maker?" Morrigan scoffed, "I saw a demon," she narrowed her eyes, "a dangerous demon".

"All we know is that that was… immense power," Solona raised an eyebrow, "All of your life force had depleted, you were dead, I felt it. But a spark happened in you, that… power burst out, it exploded. That magic, I- I've never seen anything like it."

Alistair gave Gwen a look of sympathy, he didn't blame her but she could see past that sympathy and see fear, fear of magic, fear of demons. A templar. "I see a Grey Warden, with a power she didn't know. You died at the Initiation but lived, you died here but lived. I think you have an incredible power, and I don't care who or what you are as long as you're on our side."

Gwen was shocked at Alistair's support, the fear she had sensed in him was gone and what remained was...friendship? Gwen rejected that idea, they only needed her for her power now.

They believed she couldn't die, whatever that would bring, she didn't know.

Every being's eventual fate is death. But destiny changes everything, it breaks all the rules, it has the potential to destroy the world as we know it. But the world has a funny, sometimes cruel, way of balancing the forces of life and death.

 **A/N: All reviews/comments are appreciated! Thank you for letting me know what you think of the story and where you think it might go ;)**


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